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BY   THE    SAME   AUTHOR. 


THE  MYTHS  OF  THE  NEW 
WORLD :  A  Treatise  on  the  Symbolism 
and  Mythology  of  the  Red  Race  of  America. 
Second  edition,  revised.  Large  121110,  $2.50. 

THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT: 
Its  Source  and  Aim.  A  Contribution  to  the 
Science  and  Philosophy  of  Religion.  Large 
I2mo,  $2.50. 


THE 


RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 


ITS  SOURCE  AND  AIM 


A     CONTRIBUTION    TO     THE    SCIENCE    AND 
PHILOSOPHY    OF    RELIGION. 


DANIEL  G.  BRINTON,  A.M.,  M.D. 

Member  of  the  American  Philosophical  Society,  the  American  Philological 
Society,  etc.  ;  author  of  " The  Myths  of  the  New  World"  etc. 


NEW    YORK 
HENRY    HOLT    AND    COMPANY 

1876. 


37 


SEVERAL 


COPYRIGHT, 

BY    HENKY    HOLT 
1876. 


JJHN  F.  TROW  &  SON,  PRINTERS, 
205-213  EAST  i2TH  ST.,  NEW  YORK. 


PREFACE. 

MYTHOLOGY,  since  it  began  to  receive  a  scientific 
handling  at  all,  has  been  treated  as  a  subordinate 
branch  of  history  or  of  ethnology.  The  "  science  of 
religion,"  as  we  know  it  in  the  works  of  Burnouf, 
Miiller,  and  others,  is  a  comparison  of  systems  of 
worship  in  their  historic  development.  The  deeper 
inquiry  as  to  what  in  the  mind  of  man  gave  birth  to 
religion  in  any  of  its  forms,  what  spirit  breathed  and 
is  ever  breathing  life  into  these  dry  bones,  this,  the 
final  and  highest  question  of  all,  has  had  but  passing 
or  prejudiced  attention.  To  its  investigation  this 
book  is  devoted. 

The  analysis  of  the  religious  sentiment  I  offer  is 
an  inductive  one,  whose  outlines  were  furnished  by  a 
preliminary  study  of  the  religions  of  the  native  race 
of  America,  a  field  selected  as  most  favorable  by  rea- 
son of  the  simplicity  of  many  of  its  cults,  and  the 
absence  of  theories  respecting  them.  This  study  was 
embodied  in  "  The  Myths  of  the  New  World ;  a 
Treatise  on  the  Symbolism  and  Mythology  of  the 
Red  Race  of  America  "  (second  edition,  N.  Y.  1876). 

The  results  thus  obtained  I  have  in  the  present 
work  expanded  by  including  in  the  survey  the  historic 
religions  of  the  Old  World,  and  submitted  the  whole 

195016 


iv  PREFACE. 

for  solution  to  the  Laws  of  Mind,  regarded  as  phys- 
iological elements  of  growth,  and  to  the  Laws  of 
Thought,  these,  as  formal  only,  being  held  as  nowise 
a  development  of  those.  This  latter  position,  which 
is  not  conceded  by  the  reigning  school  of  psychology, 
I  have  taken  pains  to  explain  and  defend  as  far  as 
consistent  with  the  plan  of  this  treatise ;  but  I  am 
well  aware  that  to  say  all  that  can  be  said  in  proof  of 
it,  would  take  much  more  space  than  here  allowed. 

The  main  questions  I  have  had  before  me  in  writ- 
ing this  volume  have  an  interest  beyond  those  which 
mere  science  propounds.  What  led  men  to  imagine 
gods  at  all  ?  What  still  prompts  enlightened  nations 
to  worship  ?  Is  prayer  of  any  avail,  or  of  none  ?  Is 
faith  the  last  ground  of  adoration,  or  is  reason?  Is 
religion  a  transient  phase  of  development,  or  is  it 
the  chief  end  of  man  ?  What  is  its  warrant  of  contin- 
uance ?  If  it  overlive  this  day  of  crumbling  theologies, 
whence  will  come  its  reprieve? 

To  such  inquiries  as  these,  answers  satisfactory  to 
thinking  men  of  this  time  can,  I  believe,  be  given 
only  by  an  inductive  study  of  religions,  supported  by 
a  sound  psychology,  and  conducted  in  a  spirit  which 
acknowledges  as  possibly  rightful,  the  reverence  which 
every  system  claims.  Those  I  propose,  inadequate 
though  they  may  be,  can  at  any  rate  pretend  to  be 
the  result  of  honest  labor. 
PHILADELPHIA,  January,  1876. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

i>Aci:. 

THE  BEARING  OF  THE  LAWS  OF  MIND  ON  RELIGION.  .        3 

CHAPTER  IT. 

THE  EMOTIONAL   ELEMENTS  OF    THE   RELIGIOUS    SEN- 
TIMENT         47 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE   RATIONAL  POSTULATES  OF    THE  RELIGIOUS  SEN- 
TIMENT         87 

CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  PRAYER  AND  ITS  ANSWER 117 

CHAPTER  V. 
THE  MYTH  AND  THE  MYTHICAL  CYCLES 155 

CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  CULT,  ITS  SYMBOLS  AND  RITES 190 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  MOMENTA  OF  RELIGIOUS  THOUGHT 231 


THE   BEARING   OF  THE   LAWS   OF  MIND 
ON    RELIGION 


SUMMARY. 


The  distinction  between  the  Science  and  the  Philosophy  of  religion.  It  is 
assumed  (1)  thaL  religions  are  products  of  thought,  (li)  that  they  have  a  unity 
of  kind  and  purpose.  They  can  be  studied  by  the  methods  of  natural  science 
applied  to  Mind. 

Mind  is  co-extensive  with  organism.  Sensation  and  Emotion  are  prominent 
marks  of  it.  These  are  either  pleasurable  or  painful;  the  latter  dimiitixfi 
vital  motions,  the  former  increase  them.  This  is  a  product  of  natural  selec- 
tion. A  mis-reading  of  these  facts  is  the  fallacy  of  Buddhism  and  other 
pessimistic  systems.  Pleasure  comes  from  continuous  action.  This  is 
illustrated  by  the  esthetic  emotions,  volition  and  consciousness. 

The  climax  of  mind  is  Intellect.  Physical  changes  accompany  thought 
but  cannot  measure  it.  Relations  of  thought  and  feeliivg.  Truth  is  its  only 
measure.  Truth,  like  pleasure,  is  desired  for  its  preservative  powers.  It  is 
reached  through  the  laws  of  thought. 

These  laws  are  :  (1)  the  natural  order  of  the  association  of  ideas,  (2)  the 
methods  of  applied  logic,  (3)  the  forms  of  correct  reasoning.  The  last  allow 
of  mathematical  expression.  They  are  three  in  number,  called  those  of 
Determination,  Limitation  and  Excluded  Middle. 

The  last  is  the  key-stone  of  religious  philosophy.  Its  diverse  interpre- 
tations. Its  mathematical  expres  ion  shows  that  it  does  not  relate  to  con- 
tradictories. But  certain  concrete  analytic  propositions,  relating  to  con- 
traries, do  have  this  form.  The  contrary  as  distinguished  from  the  privative. 
The  Conditioned  and  Unconditioned,  the  Knowable  and  Unknowable  are  not 
true  contradictions.  The  synthesis  of  contraries  is  theoretic  only. 

Errors  as  to  the  limits  of  possible  explanation  corrected  by  these 
distinctions.  The  formal  law  is  the  last  and  complete  explanation.  The 
relations  of  thought,  belief  and  being. 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


THE   RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  BEARING  OF  THE  LAWS  OF  MIND  ON  RELIGION. 

THE  Science  of  Religion  is  one  of  the  branches 
of  general  historical  science.  It  embraces,  as 
the  domain  of  its  investigation,  all  recorded  facts 
relating  to  the  displays  of  the  Religious  Senti- 
ment. Its  limits  are  defined  by  those  facts,  and 
the  legitimate  inferences  from  them.  Its  aim  is 
to  ascertain  the  constitutive  laws  of  the  origin 
and  spread  of  religions,  and  to  depict  the  influ- 
ence they  have  exerted  on  the  general  life  of 
mankind. 

The  question  whether  a  given  religion  is 
true  or  false  cannot  present  itself  in  this  form  as 
a  proper  subject  of  scientific  inquiry.  The  most 
that  can  be  asked  is,  whether  some  one  system  is 
best  suited  to  a  specified  condition  of  the  indi- 
vidual or  the  community. 

The   higher   inquiry   is   the  object   of    the 


4  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Philosophy  of  Religion.  This  branch  of  study 
aims  to  pass  beyond  recorded  facts  and  local 
adjustments  in  order  to  weigh  the  theoretical 
claims  of  religions,  and  measure  their  greater  or 
less  conformity  with  abstract  truth.  The  formal 
or  regulative  laws  of  religious  thought  occupy  it. 

Theology,  dogmatic  or  polemic,  is  an  ex- 
planatory defence  of  some  particular  faith.  To- 
gether with  mythology  and  symbolism,  it  fur- 
nishes the  material  from  which  the  Science 
and  Philosophy  of  Religion  seek  to  educe  the 
laws  and  frame  the  generalizations  which  will 
explain  the  source  and  aim  of  religion  in  gen- 
eral. 

The  common  source  of  all  devotional  displays 
is  the  Religious  Sentiment,  a  complex  feeling,  a 
thorough  understanding  of  which  is  an  essential 
preliminary  to  the  study  of  religious  systems. 

Such  a  study  proceeds  on  the  assumption 
that  all  religions  are  products  of  thought,  com- 
menced and  continued  in  accordance  with  the 
laws  of  the  human  mind,  and,  therefore,  compre- 
hensible to  the  extent  to  which  these  laws  are 
known.  No  one  disputes  this,  except  in  refer- 
ence to  his  own  religion.  This,  he  is  apt  to 
assert,  had  something  "supernatural"  about 
its  origin.  If  this  word  be  correctly  used,  it  may 
stand  without  cavil.  The  "  natural  "  is  that  of 
which  we  know  in  whole  or  in  part  the  laws  ;  the 
"  supernatural "  means  that  of  which  we  do  not 


RELIGIONS  ONE  IN  PURPOSE.  5 

at  present  know  in  any  degree  the  laws.  The 
domain  of  the  supernatural  diminishes  in  the 
ratio  of  the  increase  of  knowledge  ;  and  the 
inference  that  it  also  is  absolutely  under  the 
control  of  law,  is  not  only  allowable  but  oblig- 
atory. 

A  second  assumption  must  be  that  there  is  a 
unity  of  kind  and  purpose  in  all  religions.  With- 
out this,  no  common  law  can  exist  for  them. 
Such  a  law  must  hold  good  in  all  ages,  in  every 
condition  of  society,  and  in  each  instance. 
Hence  those  who  explain  religious  systems  as 
forms  of  government,  or  as  systems  of  ethics,  or 
as  misconceived  history,  or  as  theories  of  natural 
philosophy,  must  be  prepared  to  make  their  view 
good  when  it  is  universally  applied,  or  else  re- 
nounce the  possibility  of  a  Science  of  Religion; 
while  those  who  would  except  their  own  system 
from  what  they  grant  is  the  law  of  all  others, 
violate  the  principles  of  investigation  and  thereby 
the  canons  of  truth. 

The  methods  of  science  are  everywhere  alike. 
Has  the  naturalist  to  explain  an  organism,  he 
begins  with  its  elements  or  proximate  principles 
as  obtained  by  analysis  ;  he  thence  passes  to  the 
tissues  and  fluids  which  compose  its  members ; 
these  he  considers  first  in  a  state  of  repose,  their 
structure  and  their  connections  ;  then  he  ex- 
amines their  functions,  the  laws  of  their  growth 
and  action ;  and  finally  he  has  recourse  to  the 


6  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

doctrine  of  relations,  la  theorie  des  milieux,  to 
define  the  conditions  of  its  existence.  Were  such 
a  method  applied  to  a  religion,  it  would  lead  us 
first  to  study  its  psychological  elements,  then  the 
various  expressions  in  word  and  act  to  which 
these  give  occasion,  next  the  record  of  its  growth 
and  decay,  and  finally  from  these  to  gather  the 
circumstantials  of  human  life  and  culture  which 
led  to  its  historic  existence. 

Some  have  urged  that  such  a  method  should  not 
be  summoned  to  questions  in  mental  philosophy. 
To  do  so,  say  they,  is  to  confound  things  distinct, 
requiring  distinct  plans  of  study.  Such  a  criti- 
cism might  have  had  weight  in  the  days  when  the 
mind  was  supposed  to  inhabit  the  body  as  a 
tenant  a  house,  and  have  no  relation  to  it  other 
than  that  of  a  casual  occupant.  But  that  opinion 
is  antiquated.  More  than  three-fourths  of  a  cen- 
tury ago  the  far-seeing  thinker,  Wilhelm  von 
Humboldt,  laid  down  the  maxim  that  the  phe- 
nomena of  mind  and  matter  obey  laws  identical 
in  kind  ; l  and  a  recent  historian  of  science  sums 
up  the  result  of  the  latest  research  in  these  words  : 

"  The  old  dualism  of  mind  and  body,  which  for 
centuries  struggled  in  vain  for  reconciliation, 
finds  it  now,  not  indeed  in  the  unity  of  substance, 
but  in  the  unity  of  laws."  2 

1  In  his   essay  entitled,  Ueber  den  Gesclileclitsunters-lded  und 
dessen  Einfluss  nuf  die  organiscJie  Natur,  first  published  in  1795. 
'Deralte  Dualisraus  von  Goist  und  Korper,  der  Jahrhun- 


2  it 


THE  GROWTH  OF  MIND.  7 

It  is,  therefore,  as  a  question  in  mental  phi- 
losophy to  be  treated  by  the  methods  of  natural 
science,  that  I  shall  approach  the  discussion  of 
the  religious  sentiment.  As  it  is  a  part,  or  at 
least  a  manifestation  of  mind,  I  must  preface 
its  more  particular  consideration  with  some  words 
on  the  mind  in  general,  words  which  I  shall  make 
as  few  and  as  clear  as  possible. 

At  the  beginning  of  this  century,  the  natur- 
alist Oken  hazarded  the  assertion  :  "  The  human 
mind  is  a  memberment  of  infusorial  sensation," 
a  phrase  which  has  been  the  guiding  principle  of 
scientific  psychology  ever  since.  That  in  the 
course  of  this  memberment  or  growth  wholly 
new  faculties  are  acquired,  is  conceded.  As  the 
union  of  two  inorganic  substances  may  yield  a 
third  different  in  every  respect  from  either;  or, 
as  in  the  transition  of  inorganic  to  organic  mat- 
ter, the  power  of  reproduction  is  attained;  so, 
positively  new  powers  may  attend  the  develop- 
ment of  mind.  From  sensations  it  progresses  to 
emotions,  from  emotions  to  reason.  The  one  is 
the  psychical  climax  of  the  other.  "  We  have 
still  to  do  with  the  one  mind, whose  action  devel- 

derte  hindurch  nach  Versohnung  genmgen,  findet  diese  hente 
nicht  zwar  in  der  Einheit  der  Substanz,  \vohl  aber  in  der 
Einheit  des  Gesetzes."  Dr.  Heinrich  Boehmer,  Geschichte  der 
Entwiclcelung  der  Naturwixsenschaftlichen  Weltanschauung  in 
Deutsckland,  s.  201  (Gotha,  1872). 

1  Elements  of  Physio-Philosophy,  §3589.      Eng.  trans.,  Lon- 
don, 1847. 


8  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

opes  itself  with  perception,  through  discrimina- 
tion, till  it  arrives  at  notions,  wherein  its  most 
general  scheme,  '  truth  and  error,'  serves  as  the 
principle." 

Extravagant  as  Oken's  expression  seemed  to 
many  when  it  was  published,  it  now  falls  short 
of  the  legitimate  demands  of  science,  and  I  may 
add,  of  religion.  Mind  is  co-extensive  icith 
organism  ;  in  the  language  of  logic,  one  "  con- 
notes "  the  other;  this  statement,  and  nothing 
short  of  it,  satisfies  the  conditions  of  the  problem. 
Wherever  we  see  Form  preserved  amid  the 
change  of  substance,  there  is  mind ;  it  alone  can 
work  that  miracle  ;  only  it  gives  Life.  Matter 
suffers  no  increase ;  therefore  the  new  is  but  a 
redistribution  of  the  old ;  it  is  new  inform  only ; 
and  the  maintenance  of  form  under  changes  of 
substance  is  the  one  distinguishing  mark  of 
organism.  To  it  is  added  the  yet  more  wonder- 
ful power  of  transmitting  form  by  reproduction. 
Wherever  these  are,  are  also  the  rudiments  of 
mind.  The  distinction  between  the  animal  and 
the  vegetable  worlds,  between  the  reasoning 
and  unreasoning  animals,  is  one  of  degree  only. 
Whether,  in  a  somewhat  different  sense,  we  should 
not  go  yet  further,  and  say  that  mind  is  co-ex- 
tensive with  motion,  and  hence  with  phenomena, 
is  a  speculative  inquiry  which  may  have  to  be 

1  Von  Feuchtersleben,  The  Principles  of  Medical  Psychology, 
p.  130  (Eng.  trans.,  London,  1847). 


WHA  T  SENS  A  T10N  IS.  9 

answered  in  the  affirmative,  but  it  does  not  concern 
us  here. 

The  first  and  most  general  mark  of  Mind  is 
sensation  or  common  feeling.  In  technical  lan- 
guage a  sensation  is  defined  to  be  the  result 
of  an  impression  on  an  organism,  producing 
some  molecular  change  in  its  nerve  f  or  life  cen- 
tres. It  is  the  consequence  of  a  contact  with 
another  existence.  Measured  by  its  effects  upon 
the  individual  the  common  law  of  sensation  is : 
Every  impression,  however  slight,  either  adds  to 
or  takes  from  the  sum '  of  the  life-force  of  the 
system ;  in  the  former  case  it  produces  a  pleas- 
urable, in  the  latter  a  painful  sensation.  The 
exceptions  to  this  rule,  though  many,  are  such  in 
appearance  only.1 

In  the  human  race  the  impression  can  often 
be  made  quite  as  forcibly  by  a  thought  as  by  an 
act.  "  I  am  confident,"  says  John  Hunter,  the 
anatomist,  "  that  I  can  fix  my  attention  to  any 

i  "  The  fundamental  property  of  organic  structure  is  to 
seek  what  is  beneficial,  and  to  shun  what  is  hurtful  to  it."  Dr. 
Henry  Maudsley,  Body  and  Mind,  p.  22. 

"  The  most  essential  nature  of  a  sentient  being  is  to  move  to 
pleasure  and  from  pain."  A.  Bain,  On  the  Stud//  of  Character, 
p.  292  (London,  1861). 

"  States  of  Pleasure  are  connected  with  an  increase,  states  of 
Pa;n  with  an  abatement  of  some  or  all  of  the  vital  functions." 
A.  Bain,  Mind  and  Body,  p.  59. 

"  Affectus  est  conf usa  idea,  qua  Mens  majorem,  vel  minorem 
sui  corporis,  vel  alicujus  ejus  partis,  existendi  vim  affirmat." 
Spinoza,  Ethices,  Lib.  III.  adfinem. 


10  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

part,  until  I  have  a  sensation  in  that  part." 
This  is  what  is  called  the  influence  of  the  mind 
upon  the  body.  Its  extent  is  much  greater 
than  used  to  be  imagined,  and  it  has  been  a 
fertile  source  of  religious  delusions.  Such  sen- 
sations are  called  subjective  ;  those  produced  by 
external  force,  objective. 

The  immediate  consequent  of  a  sensation  is 
reflex  action,  the  object  of  which  is  either  to 
avoid  pain  or  increase  pleasure,  in  other  words, 
either  to  preserve  or  augment  the  individual 
life. 

The  molecular  changes  incident  to  a  sensa- 
tion leave  permanent  traces,  which  are  the 
physical  bases  of  memory.  One  or  several  such 
remembered  sensations,  evoked  by  a  present 
sensation,  combine  with  it  to  form  an  Emotion. 
Characteristic  of  their  origin  is  it  that  the  emo- 
tions fall  naturally  into  a  dual  classification,  in 
which  the  one  involves  pleasurable  or  elevating, 
the  other  painful  or  depressing  conditions. 
Thus  we  have  the  pairs  joy  and  grief,  hope  and 
fear,  love  and  hate,  etc. 

The  question  of  pleasure  and  pain  is  thus 
seen  to  be  the  primary  one  of  mental  science. 
We  must  look  to  it  to  explain  the  meaning  of 
sensation  as  a  common  quality  of  organism. 
What  is  the  significance  of  pleasure  and  pain  ? 

The  question  involves  that  of  Life.  Not  to 
stray  into  foreign  topics,  it  may  broadly  be  said 


THE  MEANING  OF  PAIN.  11 

that  as  all  change  resolves  itself  into  motion, 
and,  as  Helmholtz  remarks,  all  science  merges 
itself  into  mechanics,  we  should  commence  by 
asking  what  vital  motions  these  sensations  stand 
for  or  correspond  to. 

Every  organism,  and  each  of  its  parts,  is  the 
resultant  of  innumerable  motions,  a  composition 
of  forces.  As  such,  each  obeys  the  first  law  of 
motion,  to  wit,  indefinite  continuance  of  action 
until  interfered  with.  This  is  a  modification  of 
Newton's  "law  of  continuance/'  which,  with 
the  other  primary  laws  of  motion,  must  be  taken 
as  the  foundation  of  biology  as  well  as  of  astron- 
omy.1 

The  diminution  or  dispersion  of  organic  mo- 
tion is  expressed  in  physiological  terms  as  waste  ; 
we  are  admonished  of  waste  by  pain;  and  thus 
admonished  we  supply  the  waste  or  avoid  the 
injury  as  far  as  we  can.  But  this  connection  of 
pain  with  waste  is  not  a  necessary  one,  nor  is  it 
the  work  of  a  Providentia  particularis,  as  the 

1  The  extension  of  the  mechanical  laws  of  motion  to  organic 
motion  was,  I  believe,  first  carried  out  by  Conite.  His 
biological  form  of  the  first  law  is  as  follows :  "  Tout  etat,  statique 
ou  dynamique,  tend  a  persister  spontanement,  sans  aucune 
alteration,  en  resistant  aux  perturbations  extc'rieures." 
Systeme  de  Politique  Positive,  Tome  iv.  p.  178.  The  metaphysi- 
cal ground  of  this  law  has,  I  think,  been  very  well  shown  by 
Schopenhauer  to  be  in  the  Kantian  principle  that  time  is  not 
a  force,  nor  a  quality  of  matter,  but  a  condition  of  perception, 
and  hence  it  can  exert  no  physical  influence.  See  Schopen- 
hauer, Parerga  und  Paralipomena,  Bd.  II,  s.  37. 


12  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

schoolmen  said.  It  is  a  simple  result  of  natural 
selection.  Many  organisms  have  been  born,  no 
doubt,  in  which  waste  did  not  cause  pain  ;  caused, 
perhaps,  pleasure.  Consequently,  they  indulged 
their  preferences  and  soon  perished.  Only  those 
lived  to  propagate  their  kind  in  whom  a  differ- 
ent sensation  was  associated  with  waste,  and  they 
transmitted  this  sensitiveness  increased  by  an- 
cestral impression  to  their  offspring.  The  curses 
of  the  human  race  to-day  are  alcohol,  opium  and 
tobacco,  and  they  are  so  because  they  cause 
waste,  but  do  not  immediately  produce  painful 
but  rather  pleasurable  feelings. 

Pain,  as  the  sensation  of  waste,  is  the  precur- 
sor of  death,  of  the  part  or  system.  By  parity 
of  evolution,  pleasure  came  to  be  the  sensation 
of  continuance,  of  uninterrupted  action,  of  in- 
creasing vigor  and  life.  Every  action,  however, 
is  accompanied  by  waste,  and  hence  every  pleas- 
ure developes  pain.  But  it  is  all  important  to 
note  that  the  latter  is  the  mental  correlative  not 
of  the  action  but  of  its  cessation,  not  of  the  life 
of  the  part  but  of  its  ceasing  to  live.  Pain,  it  is 
true,  in  certain  limits  excites  to  action  ;  but  it  is 
by  awakening  the  self-preservative  tendencies, 
which  are  the  real  actors.  This  physiological 
distinction,  capable  of  illustration  from  sensitive 
vegetable  as  well  as  the  lowest  animal  organisms, 
has  had  an  intimate  connection  with  religious 
theories.  The  problems  of  suffering  and  death 


THE  FALLACY  OF  PESSIMISM.  13 

are  precisely  the  ones  which  all  religions  set 
forth  to  solve  in  theory  and  in  practice.  Their 
creeds  and  myths  are  based  on  what  they  make 
of  pain.  The  theory  of  Buddhism,  which  now 
has  more  followers  than  any  other  faith,  is 
founded  on  four  axioms,  which  are  called  "  the 
four  excellent  truths."  The  first  and  fundamen- 
tal one  is :  "  Pain  is  inseparable  from  exist- 
ence." This  is  the  principle  of  all  pessimism, 
ancient  and  modern.  Schopenhauer,  an  out-and- 
out  pessimist,  lays  down  the  allied  maxim,  "  All 
pleasure  is  negative,  that  is,  it  consists  in  getting 
rid  of  a  want  or  pain,"  1  a  principle  expressed 
before  his  time  in  the  saying  "  the  highest  pleas- 
ure is  the  relief  from  pain." 

Consistently  with  this,  Buddhism  holds  out  as 
the  ultimate  of  hope  the  state  of  Nirvana,  in 
which  existence  is  not,  where  the  soul  is  "  blown 
out"  like  the  flame  of  a  candle. 

But  physiology  demolishes  the  corner-stone 
of  this  edifice  when  it  shows  that  pain,  so  far 
from  being  inseparable  from  existence,  has  merely 
become,  through  transmitted  experience,  nearly 
inseparable  from  the  progressive  cessation  of 
existence.  While  action  and  reaction  are  equal 
in  inorganic  nature,  the  principle  of  life  modifies 
the  operation  of  this  universal  law  of  force  by 

1  u  Aller  Genuss,  seiner  Natur  nach,  1st  negativ,d.  h.,  in  Be- 
freiung  von  einpr  Noth  oder  Pein  besteht."  Parerga  und  Para- 
lipomena.  Bd.  II.  s.  482. 


14  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

bringing  in  nutrition,  which,  were  it  complete, 
would  antagonize  reaction.  In  such  a  case, 
pleasure  would  be  continuous,  pain  null ;  action 
constant,  reaction  hypothetical.  As,  however, 
nutrition  in  fact  never  wholly  and  at  once  re- 
places the  elements  altered  by  vital  action,  both 
physicians  and  metaphysicians  have  observed 
that  pleasure  is  the  fore-runner  of  pain,  and  has 
the  latter  as  its  certain  sequel.1 

Physiologically  and  practically,  the  definition 
of  pleasure  is,  maximum  action  with  minimum 
waste. 

This  latter  generalization  is  the  explanation 
of  the  esthetic  emotions.  The  modern  theory  of 
art  rests  not  on  a  psychological  but  a  physiolog- 
ical, and  this  in  turn  on  a  physical  basis.  Helm- 
holtz's  theory  of  musical  harmony  depends  on  the 
experimental  fact  that  a  continued  impression 
gives  a  pleasant,  a  discontinuous  an  unpleasant 
sensation.  The  mechanics  of  muscular  structure 
prove  that  what  are  called  graceful  motions  are 

1  "  No  impression  whatever  is  pleasant  beyond  the  instant  of 
its  realization  ;  since,  at  that  very  instant,  commences  the 
change  of  susceptibility,  which  suggests  the  desire  for  a  change 
of  impression  or  for  a  renewal  of  that  impression  which  is  fad- 
ing away."  Dr.  J.  P.  Catlow,  The  Principles  of  Aesthetic  Medi- 
cine, p  155  (London,  1867). 

"  Durn  re,  quern  appetamus  fruimur,  corpus  ex  ea  fruitione 
novam  acquirat  constitutionem,  a  qua  aliter  determinatur,  et 
alise  rerum  imagines  in  eo  excitantur,"  etc.  Spinoza,  Ethices, 
Pars  III,  Prop.  lix. 


PLEASURE  IS  ACTION.  15 

those  which  are  the  mechanical  resultant  of  the 
force  of  the  muscle, — those  which  it  can  perform 
at  least  waste.  The  pleasure  we  take  in  curves, 
especially  "  the  line  of  beauty,"  is  because  our 
eyes  can  follow  them  with  a  minimum  action  of 
its  muscles  of  attachment.  The  popular  figure 
called  the  Grecian  figure  or  the  walls  of  Troy, 
is  pleasant  because  each  straight  line  is  shorter, 
and  at  right  angles  to  the  preceding  one,  thus 
giving  the  greatest  possible  change  of  action  to 
the  muscles  of  the  eye. 

Such  a  mechanical  view  of  physiology  pre- 
sents other  suggestions.  The  laws  of  vibratory 
motion  lead  to  the  inference  that  action  in  ac- 
cordance with  those  laws  gives  maximum  inten- 
sity and  minimum  waste.  Hence  the  pleasure  the 
mind  takes  in  harmonies  of  sound,  of  color  and 
of  odors. 

The  correct  physiological  conception  of  the 
most  perfect  physical  life  is  that  which  will  con- 
tinue the  longest  in  use,  not  that  which  can  dis- 
play the  greatest  muscular  force.  The  ideal  is 
one  of  extension,  not  of  intension. 

Religious  art  indicates  the  gradual  recogni- 
tion of  these  principles.  True  to  their  ideal  of 
inaction,  the  Oriental  nations  represent  their 
gods  as  mighty  in  stature,  with  prominent 
muscles,  but  sitting  or  reclining,  often  with 
closed  eyes  or  folded  hands,  wrapped  in  robes,  and 
lost  in  meditation.  The  Greeks,  on  the  other 


16  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

hand,  portrayed  their  deities  of  ordinary  stature, 
naked,  awake  and  erect,  but  the  limbs  smooth  and 
round,  the  muscular  lines  and  the  veins  hardly 
visible,  so  that  in  every  attitude  an  indefinite 
sense  of  repose  pervades  the  whole  figure. 
Movement  without  effort,  action  without  waste, 
is  the  immortality  these  incomparable  works  set 
forth.  They  are  meant  to  teach  that  the  ideal 
life  is  one,  not  of  painless  ease,  but  of  joyous 
action. 

The  law  of  continuity  to  which  I  have  allud- 
ed is  not  confined  to  simple  motions.  It  is  a 
general  mathematical  law,  that  the  longer 
anything  lasts  the  longer  it  is  likely  to  last.  If 
a  die  turns  ace  a  dozen  times  handrunning, 
the  chances  are  large  that  it  will  turn  ace  again. 
The  Theory  of  Probabilities  is  founded  upon 
this,  and  the  value  of  statistics  is  based  on  an 
allied  principle.  Every  condition  opposes  change 
through  inertia.  By  this  law,  as  the  motion 
caused  by  a  pleasurable  sensation  excites  by 
the  physical  laws  of  associated  motions  the 
reminiscences  of  former  pleasures  and  pains, 
a  tendency  to  permanence  is  acquired,  which 
gives  the  physical  basis  for  Volition.  Expe- 
rience and  memory  are,  therefore,  necessary 
to  volition,  and  practically  self  restraint  is 
secured  by  calling  numerous  past  sensations 
to  mind,  deterrent  ones,  "  the  pains  which  are 
indirect  pleasures,"  or  else  pleasurable  ones. 


LIFE  THE  AIM  OF  ACTION.  17 

The  Will  is  an  exhibition  under  complex  rela- 
tions of  the  tendency  to  continuance  which  is 
expressed  in  the  first  law  of  motion.  Its  nor- 
mal action  is  the  maintenance  of  the  individual 
life,  the  prolongation  of  the  pleasurable  sen- 
sations, the  support  of  the  forces  which  combat 
death. 

Whatever  the  action,  whether  conscious  or 
reflex,  its  real  though  often  indirect  and  unac- 
complished object  is  the  preservation  or  the 
augmentation  of  the  individual  life.  Such  is  the 
dictum  of  natural  science,  and  it  coincides  sin- 
gularly with  the  famous  maxim  of  Spinoza : 
Unaquaeque  res,  quantum  in  se  est,  in  suo  esse 
perseverare  conatur. 

The  consciousness  which  accompanies  voli- 
tional action  is  derived  from  the  common  feel- 
ing which  an  organism  has,  as  the  result  of  all  its 
parts  deriving  their  nutrition  from  the  same 
centre.  Rising  into  the  sphere  of  emotions,  this 
at  first  muscular  sensation  becomes  "  self -feel- 
ing." The  Individual  is  another  name  for  the 
boundaries  of  reflex  action. 

Through  memory  and  consciousness  we  reach 
that  function  of  the  mind  called  the  intellect  or 
reason,  the  product  of  which  is  thought.  Its 
physical  accompaniments  are  chemical  action, 
and  an  increase  of  temperature  iri  the  brain. 
But  the  sum  of  the  physical  forces  thus  evolved 

is  not  the  measure  of  the  results  of  intellectual 

2 


IS  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

action.  These  differ  from  other  forms  of  force 
in  being  incommensurate  with  extension.  They 
cannot  be  appraised  in  units  of  quantity,  but 
in  quality  only.  The  chemico-vital  forces  by 
which  a  thought  rises  into  consciousness  bear 
not  the  slightest  relation  to  the  value  of  the 
thought  itself.  It  is  here  as  in  those  ancient 
myths  where  an  earthly  maiden  brings  forth  a 
god.  The  power  of  the  thought  is  dependent 
on  another  test  than  .physical  force,  to  wit,  its 
truth.  This  is  measured  by  its  conformity  to 
the  laws  of  right  reasoning,  laws  clearly  ascer- 
tained, which'  are  the  common  basis  of  all 
science,  and  to  which  it  is  the  special  province 
of  the  science  of  logic  to  give  formal  expression. 
Physical  force  itself,  in  whatever  form  it  ap- 
pears, is  only  known  to  us  as  feeling  or  a>< 
thought ;  these  alone  we  know  to  be  real ;  all 
else  is  at  least  less  real.*  Not  only  is  this  true 
of  the  external  world,  but  also  of  that  assumed 
something,  the  reason,  the  soul,  the  ego,  or  the 
intellect.  For  the  sake  of  convenience  these 
words  may  be  used ;  but  it  is  well  to  know  that 


lu  Feeling  and  thought  are  much  more  real  than  anything 
else  ;  they  are  the  only  things  which  we  directly  know  to  be  real." 
— John  Stuart  Mill. —  Theism,  p.  20'J.  How  very  remote  ex- 
ternal objects  are  from  what  we  take  them  to  be,  is  constantly 
shown  in  physiological  studies.  As  Helmholtz  remarks  :  "  Xo 
kind  and  no  degree  of  similarity  exists  between  the  quality  of 
a  sensation,  and  the  quality  of  the  agent  inducing  it  and  por- 
trayed by  it." — Lectures  on  Scientific  Subjects,  p.  390. 


INTELLECT  EXCLUDES  EMOTION.  19 

this  introduction  of  something  that  thinks,  back 
of  thought  itself,  is  a  mere  figure  of  speech. 
We  say,  "/think,"  as  if  the  "I  "was  some- 
thing else  than  the  thinking.  At  most,  it  is  but 
the  relation  of  the  thoughts.  Pushed  further, 
it  becomes  the  limitation  of  thought  by  sensa- 
tion, the  higher  by  the  lower.  The  Cartesian 
maxim,  cogito  ergo  sum,  has  perpetuated  this 
error,  and  the  modern  philosophy  of  the  ego 
and  non-ego  has  prevented  its  detection.  A 
false  reading  of  self-consciousness  led  to  this 
assumption  of  "  a  thinking  mind."  Our  person- 
ality is  but  the  perception  of  the  solidarity  of 
our  thoughts  and  feelings  ;  it  is  itself  a  thought. 

These  three  manifestations  of  mind — sensa- 
tions, emotions  and  thoughts — are  mutually  ex- 
clusive in  their  tendencies.  The  patient  forgets 
the  fear  of  the  result  in  the  pain  of  the  opera- 
tion ;  in  intense  thought  the  pulse  falls,  the 
senses  do  not  respond,  emotions  and  action  are 
absent.  We  may  say  that  ideally  the  unim- 
peded exercise  of  the  intellect  forbids  either 
sensation  or  emotion. 

Contrasting  sensation  and  emotion,  on  the  one 
side,  with  intellect  on  the  other,  feeling  with 
thought,  they  are  seen  to  be  polar  or  antithet- 
ical manifestations  of  mind.  Each  requires  the 
other  for  its  existence,  yet  in  such  wise  that  the 
one  is  developed  at  the  expense  of  the  other. 
The  one  waxes  as  the  other  wanes.  This  is  seen 


20  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

to  advantage  when  their  most  similar  elements 
are  compared.  Thus  consciousness  in  sensation 
is  keenest  when  impressions  are  strongest ;  but 
this  consciousness  is  a  bar  to  intellectual  self- 
consciousness,  as  was  pointed  out  by  Professor 
Ferrier  in  his  general  Law  of  consciousness.1 
When  emotion  and  sensation  are  at  their  min- 
im u in,  one  is  most  conscious  of  the  solidarity  of 
one's  thoughts  ;  and  just  in  proportion  to  the  viv- 
idness of  self-consciousness  is  thought  lucid  and 
strong.  In  an  ideal  intelligence,  self-conscious- 
ness would  be  infinite,  sensation  infinitesimal. 

Yet  there  is  a  parallelism  between  feeling 
and  thought,  as  well  as  a  contrast.  As  pain  and 
pleasure  indicate  opposite  tendencies  in  the  forces 
which  guide  sensation  and  emotion,  so  do  the 
true  and  the  untrue  direct  thought,  and  bear  the 
same  relation  to  it.  For  as  pain  is  the  warning 
of  death,  so  the  untrue  is  the  detrimental,  the 
destructive.  The  man  who  reasons  falsely,  will 
act  unwisely  and  run  into  danger  thereby.  To 
know  the  truth  is  to  be  ready  for  the  worst. 
Who  reasons  correctly  will  live  the  longest.  To 
love  pleasure  is  not  more  in  the  grain  of  man 
than  to  desire  truth.  "  I  have  known  many,'7 
says  St.  Augustine,  "  who  like  to  deceive ;  to  be 
deceived,  none."  Pleasure,  joy,  truth,  are  the 
respective  measures  of  life  in  sensation,  emotion, 
intellect ;  one  or  the  other  of  these  every  organ- 

lThe  Philosophy  of  Consciousness,  p.  72. 


WHAT  IS  TRUTH?  <J1 

ism  seeks  with  all  its  might,  its  choice  depend- 
ing on  which  of  these  divisions  of  mind  is  prom- 
inently its  own.  As  the  last  mentioned  is  the 
climax,  truth  presents  itself  as  in  some  way  the 
perfect  expression  of  life. 

We  have  seen  what  pleasure  is,  but  what  is 
truth  ?  The  question  of  Pilate  remains,  not 
indeed  unanswered,  but  answered  vaguely  and 
discrepancy.1  We  may  pass  it  by  as  one  of 
speculative  interest  merely,  and  turn  our  atten- 
tion to  its  practical  paraphrase,  what  is  true  ? 

The  rules  of  evidence  as  regards  events  are 
well  known,  and  also  the  principles  of  reaching 
the  laws  of  phenomena  by  inductive  methods. 
Many  say  that  the  mind  can  go  no  further  than 
this,  that  the  truth  thus  reached,  if  not  the 
highest,  is  at  least  the  highest  for  man.  It  is  at 
best  relative,  but  it  is  real.  The  correctness  of 
this  statement  may  be  tested  by  analyzing  the 
processes  by  which  we  acquire  knowledge. 

Knowledge  reaches  the  mind  in  two  forms,  for 
which  there  are  in  most  languages,  though  not  in 

1  The  Gospel  of  John  (ch.  xviii.)  leaves  the  impression 
that  Pilate  either  did  not  wait  for  an  answer  but  asked  the 
question  in  contempt,  as  Bacon  understood,  or  else  that  waiting 
he  received  no  answer.  The  Gospel  of  Nicodemus,  however, 
written  according  to  Tischendorf  in  the  second  century,  proba- 
bly from  tradition,  gives  the  rest  of  the  conversation  as  follows  : 
"Pilate  says  to  him:  What  is  truth?  Jesus  says:  Truth  is 
from  heaven.  Pilate  says  :  Is  not  there  truth  upon  earth  ? 
Jesus  says  to  Pilate:  See  how  one  who  speaks  truth  is  judged 
by  those  who  have  power  upon  earth'"  Teh.  iii.] 


22  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

modern  English,  two  distinct  expressions,  conned- 
tre  and  savoir,  kennen  and  wissen.  The  former 
relates  to  knowledge  through  sensation,  the  latter 
through  intellection ;  the  former  cannot  Le 
rendered  in  words,  the  latter  can  be  ;  the  for- 
mer is  reached  through  immediate  perception, 
the  latter  through  logical  processes.  For  exam- 
ple :  an  odor  is  something  we  may  certainly 
know  and  can  identify,  but  we  cannot  possibly 
describe  it  in  words ;  justice  on  the  other  hand  may 
be  clearly  defined  to  our  mind,  but  it  is  equally 
impossible  to  translate  it  into  sensation.  Never- 
theless, it  is  generally  agreed  that  the  one  of 
these  processes  is,  so  far  as  it  goes,  as  conclusive 
as  the  other,  and  that  they  proceed  on  essen- 
tially the  same  principles.1  Religious  phi- 
losophy has  to  do  only  with  the  second  form 
of  knowledge,  that  reached  through  notions  or 
thoughts. 

The  enchainment  or  sequence  of  thoughts  in 
the  mind  is  at  first  an  accidental  one.  They 
arise  through  the  two  general  relations  of  near- 
ness in  time  or  similarity  in  sensation.  Their 
succession  is  prescribed  by  these  conditions,  and 
without  conscious  effort  cannot  be  changed. 
They  are  notions  about  phenomena  only,  and 
hence  are  infinitely  more  likely  to  be  wrong 


1  The  most  acute  recent  discussion  of  this  subject  is  by 
Helmholtz,in  his  essay  entitled,  "  Recent  Progress  in  the  Theory 
of  Vision.11 


HOW  LOGIC  WAS  HE  ACHED.  23 

than  right.  Of  the  innumerable  associations  of 
thought  possible,  only  one  can  yield  the  truth. 
The  beneficial  effects  of  this  one  were  felt,  and 
thus  by  experience  man  slowly  came  to  distin- 
guish the  true  as  what  is  good  for  him,  the  un- 
true as  what  is  injurious. 

After  he  had  done  this  for  a  while,  he  at- 
tempted to  find  out  some  plan  in  accordance  with 
which  he  could  so  arrange  his  thoughts  that  they 
should  always  produce  this  desirable  result.  He 
was  thus  led  to  establish  the  rules  for  right  rea- 
soning, which  are  now  familiarly  known  as  Logic. 
This  science  was  long  looked  upon  as  a  completed 
one,  and  at  the  commencement  of  this  century 
we  find  such  a  thinker  as  Coleridge  expressing  an 
opinion  that  further  development  in  it  was  not 
to  be  expected.  Since  then  it  has,  however, 
taken  a  fresh  start,  and  by  its  growth  has  laid 
the  foundation  for  a  system  of  metaphysics  which 
will  be  free  from  the  vagaries  and  unrealities 
which  have  thrown  general  discredit  on  the  name 
of  philosophy. 

In  one  direction,  as  applied  logic  and  the 
logic  of  induction,  the  natural  associations  of  ideas 
have  been  thoroughly  studied,  and  the  methods 
by  which  they  can  be  controlled  and  reduced 
have  been  taught  with  eminent  success.  In  this 
branch,  Bentham,  Mill,  Bain,  and  others  have  been 
prominent  workers. 

Dealing  mainly  with  the  subjects  and  materials 


24  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

of  reasoning,  with  thoughts  rather  than  with 
thinking,  these  writers,  with  the  tendency  of 
specialists,  have  not  appreciated  the  labors  of  an- 
other school  of  logicians,  who  have  made  the  in- 
vestigation of  the  process  of  thinking  itself  their 
especial  province.  This  is  abstract  logic,  or  pure 
logic,  sometimes  called,  inasmuch  as  it  deals  with 
forms  only,  "  formal  logic,"  or  because  it  deals 
with  names  and  not  things,  "  the  logic  of  names." 
It  dates  its  rise  as  an  independent  science  from 
the  discovery  of  what  is  known  as  "  the  quan- 
tification of  the  predicate,"  claimed  by  Sir 
William  Hamilton.  Of  writers  upon  it  may  be 
mentioned  Professor  De  Morgan,  W.  Stanley 
Jevons,  and  especially  Professor  George  Boole  of 
Belfast.  The  latter,  one  of  the  subtlest  thinkers 
of  this  age,  and  eminent  as  a  mathematician, 
succeeded  in  making  an  ultimate  analysis  of  the 
laws  of  thinking,  and  in  giving  them  a  symbolic 
notation,  by  which  not  only  the  truth  of  a  simple 
proposition  but  the  relative  degree  of  truth  in 
complex  propositions  may  be  accurately  esti- 
mated.1 


]  George  Boole,  Professor  of  Mathematics  in  Queen's  Col- 
lege, Cork,  was  born  Xov.  2,  1815,  died  Dec.  8,  1864.  Pie  was 
the  author  of  several  contributions  to  the  higher  mathematics, 
but  his  principal  production  is  entitled:  An  Investigation  info 
the  Laws  of  Thought,  on  which  are  founded  the  mathematical  Tlieo- 
ries  of  Logic  and  Probabilities  [London,  1854.]  Though  the  re- 
putation he  gained  was  so  limited  that  one  may  seek  his  name 
in  vain  in  the  New  American  Cyclopedia  [1875],  or  the  Diction- 


PROFESSOR  BOOLE'S  DISCOVERIES.  25 

This  he  did  by  showing  that  the  laws  of  cor- 
rect thinking  can  be  expressed  in  algebraic  nota- 
tion, and,  thus  expressed,  will  be  subject  to  all 
the  mathematical  laws  of  an  algebra  whose  sym- 
bols bear  the  uniform  value  of  unity  or  nought 
(1  or  0) — a  limitation  required  by  the  fact  that 
pure  logic  deals  in  notions  of  quality  only,  not  of 
quantity. 

This  mathematical  form  of  logic  was  foreseen 
by  Kant  when  he  declared  that  all  mathematical 
reasoning  derives  its  validity  from  the  logical 
laws ;  but  no  one  before  Professor  Boole  had 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  notation  which  sub- 
ordinated these  two  divisions  of  abstract  thought 
to  the  same  formal  types.  His  labors  have  not 
yet  borne  fruit  in  proportion  to  their  value,  and 
they  are,  I  believe,  comparatively  little  known. 
But  in  the  future  they  will  be  regarded  as 
epochal  in  the  science  of  mind.  They  make  us  to 
see  the  same  law  governing  mind  and  matter, 
thought  and  extension. 

Not  the  least  important  result  thus  achieved 


naire  des  Contemporains  [1859],  the  few  who  can  appreciate  fyis 
treatise  place  the  very  highest  estimate  upon  it.  Professor 
Todhunter,  in  the  preface  to  his  History  of  the  Theory  of  Profia- 
l!.lifi(js,  calls  it  "  a  marvellous  work,"  and  in  similar  language 
Professor  W.  Stanley  Jevons  speaks  of  it  as  "  one  of  the  most 
marvellous  and  admirable  pieces  of  reasoning  ever  put  together" 
(Pure  Logic,  p.  75)-  Professor  Bain,  who  gives  a  synopsis  of  it 
in  his  Deductive  Logic,  wholly  misapprehends  tfye  author's  pur- 
pose, and  is  unable  \<Q  appraise  justly  Jiis  conclusions. 


26  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

was  in  emphasizing  the  contrast  between  the 
natural  laws  of  mental  association,  and  the  laws 
of  thinking  which  are  the  foundation  of  the  syl- 
logism. 

By  attending  to  this  distinction  we  are  ena- 
bled to  keep  the  form  and  the  matter  of  thought 
well  apart — a  neglect  to  do  which,  or  rather  a 
studied  attempt  to  ignore  which,  is  the  radical 
error  of  the  logic  devised  by  Hegel,  as  I  shall 
show  more  fully  a  little  later. 

All  applied  logic,  inductive  as  well  as  deduc- 
tive, is  based  on  formal  logic,  and  this  in  turn 
on  the  "  laws  of  thought,"  or  rather  of  thinking. 
These  are  strictly  regulative  or  abstract,  and  dif- 
fer altogether  from  the  natural  laws  of  thought, 
such  as  those  of  similarity,  contiguity  and  har- 
mony, as  well  as  from  the  rules  of  applied  .logic, 
such  as  those  of  agreement  and  difference.  The 
fundamental  laws  of  thinking  are  three  in  num- 
ber, and  their  bearing  on  all  the  higher  questions 
of  religious  philosophy  is  so  immediate  that  their 
consideration  becomes  of  the  last  moment  in  such 
a  study  as  this.  They  are  called  the  laws  of 
Determination,  Limitation  and  Excluded  Middle. 

The  first  affirms  that  every  object  thought 
about  must  be  conceived  as  itself,  and  not  as 
some  other  thing.  "  A  is  A,"  or  "  x  =  x"  is  its 
formal  expression.  This  teaches  us  that  what- 
ever we  think  of,  must  be  thought  as  one  or  a 
unity.  It  is  important,  however,  to  note  that 


THE  LAWS  OF  THOUGHT.  27 

this  does  not  mean  a  mathematical  unit,  but  a 
logical  one,  that  is,  identity  and  not  contrast. 
So  true  is  this  that  in  mathematical  logic  the 
only  value  which  can  satisfy  the  formula  is  a 
concept  which  does  not  admit  of  increase,  to 
wit,  a  Universal. 

From  this  necessity  of  conceiving  a  thought 
under  unity  has  arisen  the  interesting  tendency, 
so  frequently  observable  even  in  early  times,  to 
speak  of  the  universe  as  one  whole,  the  TO  -av 
of  the  Greek  philosophers ;  and  also  the  mono- 
theistic leaning  of  all  thinkers,  no  matter  what 
their  creed,  who  have  attained  very  general  con- 
ceptions. Furthermore,  the  strong  liability  of 
confounding  this  speculative  or  logical  unity 
with  the  concrete  notion  of  individuality,  or 
mathematical  unity,  has  been,  as  I  shall  show 
hereafter,  a  fruitful  source  of  error  in  both  re- 
ligious and  metaphysical  theories.  Pure  logic 
deals  wkh  quality  only,  not  with  quantity. 

The  second  law  is  that  of  Limitation.  As 
the  first  is  sometimes-  called  that  of  Affirmation, 
so  this  is  called  that  of  Negation.  It  prescribes 
that  a  thing  is  not  that  which  it  is  not.  Its 
formula  is,  "  A  is  not  not-A."  If  this  seems 
trivial,  it  is  because  it  is  so  familiar. 

These  two  laws  are  two  aspects  of  the  same 
law.  The  old  maxim  is,  omnis  determinatio 
est  negatio;  a  quality  can  rise  into  cognition 
only  by  being  limited  by  that  which  it  is  not. 


28  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

It  is  not  a  comparison  of  two  thoughts,  how- 
ever, nor  does  it  limit  the  quality  itself.  For 
the  negative  is  not  a  thought,  and  the  quality  is 
not  in  suo  yenere  finita,  to  use  an  expression  of 
the  old  logicians ;  it  is  limited  not  by  itself  but 
by  that  which  it  is  not.  These  are  not  idle  dis- 
tinctions, as  will  soon  appear. 

The  third  law  comes  into  play  when  two 
thoughts  are  associated  and  compared.  There 
is  qualitative  identity,  or  there  is  not.  A  is 
either  B  or  not  B.  An  animal  is  either  a  man 
or  not  a  man.  There  is  no  middle  class  between 
the  two  to  which  it  can  be  assigned.  Superficial 
truism  as  this  appears,  we  have  now  come  upon 
the  very  battle  ground  of  the  philosophies. 
This  is  the  famous  "  Law  of  the  contradictories 
and  excluded  middle,"  on  the  construction  of 
which  the  whole  fabric  of  religious  dogma,  and 
I  may  add  of  the  higher  metaphysics,  must  de- 
pend. "  One  of  the  principal  retarding  causes 
of  philosophy,"  remarks  Professor  Ferrier,  "  has 
been  the  want  of  a  clear  and  developed  doctrine 
of  the  contradictory."  l  The  want  is  as  old  as 
the  days  of  Heraclitus  of  Ephesus,  and  lent  to 
his  subtle  paradoxes  that  obscurity  which  has  not 
yet  been  wholly  removed. 

Founding  his  arguments  on  one  construction 
of  this  law,  expressed  in  the  maxim,  "  The  con- 

1  The  Institutes  nf  Metaphysic,  p.  459,  (2nd  edition.) 


THE  LA  W  OF  EXCLUDED  MIDDLE.  29 

1  ceivable  lies  between  two  contradictory  extremes," 
Sir  William  Hamilton  defended  with  his  wide 
learning  those  theories  of  the  Conditioned  and 
the  Unconditioned,  the  Knowable  and  Unknow- 
able, which  banish  religion  from  the  realm  of 
reason  and  knowledge  to  that  of  faith,  and  cleave 
an  impassable  chasm  between  the  human  and 
the  divine  intelligence.  From  this  unfavorable 
ground  his  orthodox  followers,  Mansel  and  Moz- 
ley,  defended  with  ability  but  poor  success  their 
Christianity  against  Herbert  Spencer  and  his 
disciples,  who  also  accepted  the  same  theories, 
but  followed  them  out  to  their  legitimate  con- 
clusion— a  substantially  atheistic  one. 

Hamilton  in  this  was  himself  but  a  follower 
of  Kant,  who  brought  this  law  to  support  his 
celebrated  "  antinomies  of  the  human  under- 
standing," warnings  set  up  to  all  metaphysical 
explorers  to  keep  off  of  holy  ground. 

On  another  construction  of  it,  one  which 
sought  to  escape  the  dilemma  of  the  contradict- 
ories by  confining  them  to  matters  of  the  under- 
standing, Hegel  and  Schelling  believed  they  had 
gained  the  open  field.  They  taught  that  in 
the  highest  domain  of  thought,  there  where  it 
deals  with  questions  of  pure  reason,  the  unity 
and  limits  which  must  be  observed  in  matters  of 
the  understanding  and  which  give  validity  to 
this  third  law,  do  not  obtain.  This  view  has 
been  closely  criticized,  and,  I  think,  with  justice. 


30  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Pretending  to  deal  with  matters  of  pure  reason, 
it  constantly  though  surreptitiously  proceeds 
on  the  methods  of  applied  logic  ;  its  conclusions 
are  as  fallacious  logically  as  they  are  experiment- 
ally. The  laws  of  thought  are  formal,  and  are  as 
binding  in  transcendental  subjects  as  in  those 
which  concern  phenomena. 

The  real  bearing  of  this  law  can,  it  appears 
to  me,  best  be  derived  from  a  study  of  its  math- 
ematical expression.  This  is,  according  to  the 
notation  of  Professor  Boole,  x  2=x.  As  such,  it 
presents  a  fundamental  equation  of  thought,  and 
it  is  because  it  is  of  the  second  degree  that  we 
classify  in  pairs  or  opposites.  This  equation 
can  only  be  satisfied  by  assigning  to  x  the  value 
of  1  or  0.  The  "  universal  type  of  form"  is  there- 
fore x  (1 — x)=0. 

This  algebraic  notation  shows  that  there  is, 
not  two,  but  only  one  thought  in  the  antithesis ; 
that  it  is  made  up  of  a  thought  and  its  expressed 
limit ;  and,  therefore,  that  the  so-called  "  law 
of  contradictories  "  does  not  concern  contradic- 
tories at  all,  in  pure  logic.  This  result  was  se^en, 
though  not  clearly,  by  Dr.  Thompson,  who  in- 
dicated the  proper  relation  of  the  members  of 
the  formula  as  a  positive  and  a  privative.  He, 
however,  retained  Hamilton's  doctrine  that 
"  privative  conceptions  enter  into  and  assist  the 
higher  processes  of  the  reason  in  all  that  it  can 
know  of  the  absolute  and  infinite ;  "  that  we  must, 


LOGICAL  FALLACIES.  31 

"  from  the  seen  realize  an  unseen  world,  not  by 
extending  to  the  latter  the  properties  of  the  for- 
mer, but  by  assigning  to  it  attributes  entirely 
opposite."  1 

The  error  that  vitiates  all  such  reasoning  is 
the  assumption  that  the  privative  is  an  inde- 
pendent thought,  that  a  thought  and  its  limita- 
tion are  two  thoughts  ;  whereas  they  are  but  the 
two  aspects  of  the  one  thought,  like  two  sides  to 
the  one  disc,  and  the  absurdity  of  speaking  of 
them  as  separate  thoughts  is  as  great  as  to  speak 
of  a  curve  seen  from  its  concavity  as  a  different 
thing  from  the  same  curve  regarded  from  its 
convexity.  The  privative  can  help  us  nowhere 
and  to  nothing  ;  the  positive  only  can  assist  our 
reasoning. 

This  elevation  of  the  privative  into  a  con- 
trary, or  a  contradictory,  has  been  the  bane  of 
metaphysical  reasoning.  From  it  has  arisen  the 
doctrine  of  the  synthesis  of  an  affirmative  and  a 
negative  into  a  higher  conception,  reconciling 
them  both.  This  is  the  maxim  of  the  Hegelian 
logic,  which  starts  from  the  synthesis  of  Being 
and  Not-being  into  the  Becoming,  a  very  ancient 
doctrine,  long  since  offered  as  an  explanation  of 
certain  phenomena,  which  I  shall  now  touch 
upon. 

A  thought  and  its  privative  alone — that  is,  a 

*An  Outline  of  the  Necessanj  Laws  of  Thought,  p.  113  (New 
York,  1860). 


32  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

quality  and  its  negative — cannot  lead  to  a  more 
comprehensive  thought.  It  is  devoid  of  relation 
and  barren.  In  pure  logic  this  is  always  the 
case,  and  must  be  so.  In  concrete  thought  it 
may  be  otherwise.  There  are  certain  proposi- 
tions in  which  the  negative  is  a  reciprocal  qual- 
ity, quite  as  positive  as  that  which  it  is  set  over 
against.  The  members  of  such  a  proposition  are 
what  are  called  "  true  contraries."  To  what- 
ever they  apply  as  qualities,  they  leave  no  mid- 
dle ground.  If  a  thing  is  not  one  of  them,  it  is 
the  other.  There  is  no  third  possibility.  An 
object  is  either  red  or  not  red  ;  if  not  red,  it 
may  be  one  of  many  colors.  But  if  we  say  that 
all  laws  are  either  concrete  or  abstract,  then  we 
know  that  a  law  not  concrete  has  all  the  proper- 
ties of  one  which  is  abstract.  We  must  examine, 
then,  this  third  law  of  thought  in  its  applied 
forms  in  order  to  understand  its  correct  use. 

It  will  be  observed  that  there  is  an  assump- 
tion of  space  or  time  in  many  propositions  hav- 
ing the  form  of  the  excluded  middle.  They  are 
only  true  under  given  conditions.  "  All  gold  i? 
fusible  or  not,"  means  that  some  is  fusible  at 
the  time.  If  all  gold  be  already  fused,  it  does 
not  hold  good.  This  distinction  was  noted  by 
Kant  in  his  discrimination  between  synthetic 
judgments,  which  assume  other  conditions  ;  and 
analytic  judgments,  which  look  only  at  the  mem- 
bers of  the  proposition. 


ON  «  TRUE  CONTRARIES."  33 

Only  the  latter  satisfy  the  formal  law,  for 
the  proposition  must  not  look  outside  of  itself 
for  its  completion.  Most  analytic  propositions 
cannot  extend  our  knowledge  beyond  their 
immediate  statement.  If  A  is  either  B  or  not 
B,  and  it  is  shown  not  to  be  B,  it  is  left  uncertain 
what  A  may  be.  The  class  of  propositions  re- 
ferred to  do  more  than  this,  inasmuch  as  they  pre- 
sent alternative  conceptions,  mutually  exhaust- 
ive, each  the  privative  of  the  other.  Of  these 
two  contraries,  the  one  always  evokes  the  other ; 
neither  can  be  thought  except  in  relation  to  the 
other.  They  do  not  arise  from  the  dichotomic 
process  of  classification,  but  from  the  polar 
relations  of  things.  Their  relation  is  not  in  the 
mind  but  in  themselves,  a  real  externality. 
The  distinction  between  such  as  spring  from  the 
former  and  the  latter  is  the  most  important  ques- 
tion in  philosophy. 

To  illustrate  by  examples,  we  familiarly  speak 
of  heat  and  cold,  and  to  say  a  body  is  not  hot  is 
as  much  as  to  say  it  is  cold.  But  every  physicist 
knows  that  cold  is  merely  a  diminution  of  heat, 
not  a  distinct  form  of  force.  The  absolute  zero 
may  be  reached  T^y  the  abstraction  of  all  heat, 
and  then  the  cold  cannot  increase.  So,  life  and 
death  are  not  true  contraries,  for  the  latter  is 
not  anything  real  but  a  mere  privative,  a  quan- 
titative diminution  of  the  former,  growing  less 
to  an  absolute  zero  where  it  is  wholly  lost. 


31  THE  RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT. 

Thus  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  Unconditioned 
exists  only  as  a  part  of  the  idea  of  the  Con- 
ditioned, the  Unknowable  as  the  foil  of  the 
Knowable ;  and  the  erecting  of  these  mere 
privatives,  these  negatives,  these  shadows,  into 
substances  and  realities,  and  then  setting  them 
up  as  impassable  barriers  to  human  thought,  is 
one  of  the  worst  pieces  of  work  that  metaphysics 
has  been  guilty  of. 

The  like  does  not  hold  in  true  contrasts. 
Each  of  them  has  an  existence  as  a  positive,  and 
is  never  lost  in  a  zero  of  the  other.  The  one  is 
always  thought  in  relation  to  the  other.  Ex- 
amples of  these  are  subject  and  object,  absolute 
and  relative,  mind  and  matter,  person  and  con- 
sciousness, time  and  space.  When  any  one  of 
these  is  thought,  the  other  is  assumed.  It  is 
vain  to  attempt  their  separation.  Thus  those 
philosophers  who  assert  that  all  knowledge  is 
relative,  are  forced  to  maintain  this  assertion,  to 
wit,  All  knowledge  is  relative,  is  nevertheless 
absolute,  and  thus  they  falsify  their  own  posi- 
tion. So  also,  those  others  who  say  all  mind  is 
a  property  of  matter,  assume  in  this  sentence 
the  reality  of  an  idea  apart  from  matter.  Some 
have  argued  that  space  and  time  can  be 
conceived  independently  of  each  other ;  but 
their  experiments  to  show  it  do  not  bear  repe- 
tition. 

All  true   contraries  are  universals.     A  uni- 


-- 

NIVERSITY 

OF 


EXAMPLES  OF  TRUE  CONTRARIES.  35 

versal  concept  is  one  of  "maximum  extension," 
as  logicians  say,  that  is,  it  is  without  limit.  The 
logical  limitation  of  such  a  universal  is  not  its 
negation,  but  its  contrary,  which  is  itself  also  a 
universal.  The  synthesis  of  the  two  can  be  in 
theory  only,  yet  yields  a  real  product.  To 
illustrate  this  by  a  geometrical  example,  a 
straight  line  produced  indefinitely  is,  logically 
considered,  a  universal.  Its  antithesis  or  true 
contrary  is  not  a  crooked  line,  as  might  be 
supposed,  but  the  straight  line  which  runs  at 
right  angles  to  it.  Their  synthesis  is  not  the 
line  which  bisects  their  angle  but  that  formed 
by  these  contraries  continually  uniting,  that  is, 
the  arc  of  a  circle,  the  genesis  of  which  is  theo- 
retically the  union  of  two  such  lines.  Again, 
time  can  only  be  measured  -by  space,  space  by 
time  ;  they  are  true  universals  and  contraries  ; 
their  synthesis  is  motion,  a  conception  which  re- 
quires them  both  and  is  completed  by  them.  Or 
again,  the  philosophical  extremes  of  downright 
materialism  and  idealism  are  each  wholly  true, 
yet  but  half  the  truth.  The  insoluble  enigmas 
that  either  meets  in  standing  alone  are  kindred 
to  those  which  puzzled  the  old  philosophers  in 
the  sophisms  relating  to  motion,  as,  for  instance, 
that  as  a  body  cannot  move  where  it  is  and  still 
less  where  it  is  not,  therefore  it  cannot  move  at 
all.  Motion  must  recognise  both  time  and  space 
to  be  comprehensible.  As  a  true  contrary 


36  THE   RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT. 

constantly  implies  the  existence  of  its  opposite, 
we  cannot  take  a  step  in  right  reasoning  without 
a  full  recognition  of  both. 

This  relation  of  contraries  to  the  higher 
conception  which  logically  must  include  them 
is  one  of  the  well-worn  problems  of  the  higher 
metaphysics. 

The  proper  explanation  would  seem  to  be,  as 
suggested  above,  that  the  synthesis  of  contraries 
is  capable  of  formal  expression  only,  but  not  of 
interpretation.  In  pursuing  the  search  for  their 
union  we  pass  into  a  realm  of  thought  not  unlike 
that  of  the  mathematician  when  he  deals  with 
hypothetical  quantities,  those  which  can  only 
be  expressed  in  symbols — ,  V~T  for  example, 
— but  uses  them  to  good  purpose  in  reaching 
real  results.  The  law  does  not  fail,  but  its 
operations  can  no  longer  be  expressed  under 
material  images.  They  are  symbolic  and  for 
speculative  thought  alone,  though  pregnant  with 
practical  applications. 

As  I  have  hinted,  in  all  real  contraries  it 
is  theoretically  possible  to  accept  either  the  one 
or  the  other.  As  in  mathematics,  all  motion  can 
be  expressed  either  under  formula?  of  initial 
motion  (mechanics)  ,  or  of  continuous  motion 
(kinematics) ,  or  as  all  force  can  be  express- 
ed as  either  static  or  as  dynamic  force ;  in 
either  case  the  other  form  assuming  a  merely 
hypothetical  or  negative  position ;  so  the  logic 


THE  BEING  AND  NOT-BEING.  37 

of  quality  is  competent  to  represent  all  existence 
as  ideal  or  as  material,  all  truth  as  absolute  or 
all  as  relative,  or  even  to  express  the  universe 
in  formulae  of  being  or  of  not-being.  This  per- 
haps was  what  Heraclitus  meant  when  he  pro- 
pounded his  dark  saying  :  "  All  things  are  and 
are  not."  He  added  that  "  All  is  not,"  is  truer 
than  "  All  is."  Previous  to  his  day,  Buddha 
Sakyamuni  had  said  :  "  He  who  has  risen  to  the 
perception  of  the  not-Being,  to  the  Unconditioned, 
the  Universal,  his  path  is  difficult  to  understand, 
like  the  flight  of  birds  in  the  air."  1  Perhaps 
even  he  learned  his  lore  from  some  older  song 
of  the  Yeda,  one  of  which  ends,  "  Thus  have  the 
sages,  meditating  in  their  souls,  explained  away 
the  fetters  of  being  by  the  not-being."2  The 
not-being,  as  alone  free  from  space  and  time, 
impressed  these  sages  as  the  more  real  of  the 
two,  the  only  absolute. 

The  error  of  assigning  to  the  one  universal  a 
preponderance  over  the  other  arose  from  the 
easy  confusion  of  pure  with  applied  thought. 
The  synthesis  of  contraries  exists  in  the  formal 
law  alone,  and  this  is  difficult  to  keep  before  the 
mind.  In  concrete  displays  they  are  forever 
incommensurate.  One  seems  to  exclude  the 
other.  .To  see  them  correctly  we  must  there 
treat  them  as  alternates.  We  may  be  competent, 

1  The  Dhamapada,  Terse  93. 

2  Koppen,  Der  Buddhismus,   s.  30. 


38  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

for  instance,  to  explain  all  phenomena  of  mind 
by  organic  processes  ;  and  equally  competent  to 
explain  all  organism  as  effects  of  mind  ;  but  we 
must  never  suppose  an  immediate  identity  of  the 
two  ;  this  is  only  to  be  found  in  the  formal  law 
common  to  both ;  still  less  should  we  deny  the 
reality  of  either.  Each  exhausts  the  universe  ; 
but  at  every  step  each  presupposes  the  other  ; 
their  synthesis  is  life,  a  concept  hopelessly  puz- 
zling unless  regarded  in  all  its  possible  displays 
as  made  up  of  both. 

This  indicates  also  the  limits  of  explanation. 
By  no  means  every  man's  reason  knows  when  it 
has  had  enough.  The  less  it  is  developed,  the 
further  is  it  from  such  knowledge.  This  is  plain- 
ly seen  in  children,  who  often  do  not  rest  satis- 
fied with  a  really  satisfactory  explanation.  It  is 
of  first  importance  to  be  able  to  recognize  what 
is  a  good  reason. 

I  may  first  say  what  it  is  not.  It  is  not  a  cause. 
This  is  nothing  more  than  a  prior  arrangement 
of  the  effect ;  the  reason  for  an  occurrence  is 
never  assigned  by  showing  its  cause.  Nor  is  it  a 
caprice,  that  is,  motiveless  volition,  or  will  as  a 
motor.  In  this  sense,  the  "will  of  God  "  is  no 
good  reason  for  an  occurrence.  Nor  is  it  fate, 
or  physical  necessity.  This  is  denying  there  is 
any  explanation  to  give 

The  reason  can  only  be  satisfied  with  an 
aliment  consubstantial  with  itself.  Nothing 


WHAT  IS  A  GOOD  REASON.  39 

material  like  cause,  nor  anything  incomprehen- 
sible like  caprice, meets  its  demands.  Reason  is 
allied  to  order,  system  and  purpose  above  all 
things.  That  which  most  completely  answers  to 
these  will  alone  satisfy  its  requirements.  They 
are  for  an  ideal  of  order.  Their  complete  satis- 
faction is  obtained  in  universal  types  and  meas- 
ures, pure  abstractions,  which  are  not  and  can- 
not be  real.  The  formal  law  is  the  limit  of 
explanation  of  phenomena,  beyond  which  a 
sound  intellect  will  ask  nothing.  It  fulfils  all 
the  requirements  of  reason,  and  leaves  nothing 
to  be  desired. 

Those  philosophers,  such  as  Herbert  Spencer, 
who  teach  that  there  is  some  incogitable 
"  nature  "  of  something  which  is  the  immanent 
"  cause  "  of  phenomena,  delude  themselves  with 
words.  The  history  and  the  laws  of  a  phenom- 
enon are  its  nature,  and  there  is  no  chimerical 
something  beyond  them.  They  are  exhaustive. 
They  fully  answer  the  question  why,  as  well  as 
the  question  how.1 

1  Spencer  in  assuming  an  "  unknowable  universal  causal 
agent  and  source  of  things,"  as  "the  nature  of  the  power 
manifested  in  phenomena,"  and  in  calling  this  the  idea  com- 
mon to  both  religion  and  "  ideal  science,"  fell  far  behind 
Comte,  who  expressed  the  immovable  position,  not  only  of 
positive  science  but  of  all  intelligence,  in  these  words  :  "  Le 
veritable  esprit  positif  consiste  surtout  a  substituer  toujours 
I'e'tude  des  lots  invariables  desphenomenes  a  celles  de  leurs  causes 
proprement  dites,  premieres  ou  finales,  enun  mot  la  deterinina- 


40  THE    RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT. 

For  it  is  important  to  note  that  the  word 
"  law  "  is  not  here  used  in  the  sense  which 
Blackstone  gives  to  it,  a  "  rule  of  conduct ; " 
nor  yet  in  that  which  science  assigns  to  it,  a 
"  physical  necessity."  Law  in  its  highest  sense 
is  the  type  or  form,  perceived  by  reason  as  that 
toward  which  phenomena  tend,  but  which  they 
always  fail  to  reach.  It  was  shown  by  Kant 
that  all  physical  laws  depend  for  their  validity 
on  logical  laws.  These  are  not  authoritative,  like 
the  former,  but  purposive  only.  But  their  pur- 
pose is  clear,  to  wit,  the  attainment  of  propor- 
tion, consistency  or  truth.  As  this  purpose  is 
reached  only  in  the  abstract  form,  this  alone 
gives  us  the  absolutely  true  in  which  reason  can 
rest. 

In  the  concrete,  matter  shows  the  law  in  its 
efforts  toward  form,  mind  in  its  struggle  for  the 
true.  The  former  is  guided  by  physical  force, 
and  the  extinction  of  the  aberrant.  The  latter, 
in  its  highest  exhibition  in  a  conscious  intelli- 
gence, can  alone  guide  itself  by  the  representa- 
tion of  law,  by  the  sense'  of  Duty.  Such  an 
intelligence  has  both  the  faculty  to  see  and  the 
power  to  choose  and  appropriate  to  its  own  be- 

tion  du  comment  a  oelle  AupourquoiS'—Systtmede  Politique  Posi- 
tive, i.  p.  47 '.  Compare  Spencer's  Essay  entitled,  "Reasons 
for  dissenting  from  Comte."  The  purposive  law  is  the  only 
final  cause  which  reason  allows.  Comte's  error  lay  in  ignoring 
this  class  of  laws. 


"  THE  THINGS  ETERNAL."  41 

hoof,  and  thus  to  build  itself  up  out  of  those 
truths  which  are  "  from  everlasting  unto  ever- 
lasting." 

A  purely  formal  truth  of  this  kind  as  some- 
thing wholly  apart  from  phenomena,  not  in  any 
way  connected  with  the  knowledge  derived 
through  the  senses,  does  not  admit  of  doubt  and 
can  never  be  changed  by  future  conquests  of  the 
reasoning  powers.  We  may  rest  upon  it  as 
something  more  permanent  than  matter,  greater 
than  Nature. 

Such  was  the  vision  that  inspired  the  noble 
lines  of  Wordsworth  : — 

"  Wha-t  are  things  eternal? — Powers  depart, 
Possessions  vanish,  and  opinions  change, 
And  passions  hold  a  fluctuating  seat; 
But,  by  the  storms  of  circumstance  unshaken, 
And  subject  neither  to  eclipse  nor  wane, 
Duty  exists  ;  immutably  survive 
For  our  support,  the  measures  and  the  forms 
Which  an  abstract  intelligence  supplies; 
Whose  kingdom  is  where  time  and  space  are  not." 

There  is  no  danger  that  we  shall  not  know 
what  is  thus  true  when  we  see  it.  The  sane 
reason  cannot  reject  it.  "  The  true,"  says 
Novalis,  "  is  that  which  we  cannot  help  believ- 
ing." It  is  the  perceptio  per  solam  essentiam 
of  Spinoza.  It  asks  not  faith  nor  yet  testi- 
mony ;  it  stands  in  need  of  neither. 

Mathematical  truth  is  of  this  nature.     We 


42  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

cannot,  if  we  try,  believe  that  twice  two  is  five. 
Hence  the  unceasing  effort  of  all  science  is  to 
give  its  results  mathematical  expression.  Such 
truth  so  informs  itself  with  will  that  once  re- 
ceived, it  is  never  thereafter  alienated  ;  obedi- 
ence to  it  does  not  impair  freedom.  Necessity 
and  servitude  do  not  arise  from  correct  rea- 
soning, but  through  the  limitation  of  fallacies. 
They  have  nothing  to  do  with 

'*  Those  transcendent  truths 
Of  the  pure  intellect,  that  stand  as  laws 
Even  to  Thy  Being's  infinite  majesty." 

It  is  not  derogatory,  but  on  the  contrary 
essential  to  the  conception  of  the  Supreme 
Reason,  the  Divine  Logos,  to  contemplate  its 
will  as  in  accord  and  one  with  the  forms  of  abstract 
truth.  "  The  (  will  of  God  '  "  says  Spinoza,  "  is 
the  refuge  of  ignorance  ;  the  true  Will  is  the 
spirit  of  right  reasoning." 

This  identification  of  the  forms  of  thought 
with  the  Absolute  is  almost  as  old  as  philosophy 
itself.  The  objections  to  it  have  been  that  no  in- 
dependent existence  attaches  to  these  forms  ; 
that  they  prescribe  the  conditions  of  thought  but 
are  not  thought  itself,  still  less  being  ;  that  they 
hold  good  to  thought  as  known  to  man's  reason, 
but  perchance  not  to  thought  in  other  intelli- 
gences ;  and,  therefore,  that  even  if  through  the 
dialectical  development  of  thought  a  consistent 


THOUGHT  AND  BEING.  43 

idea  of  the  universe  were  framed,  that  is,  one 
wherein  every  fact  was  referred  to  its  appropriate 
law,  still  would  remain  the  inquiry,  Is  this  the 
last  and  absolute  truth  ? 

The  principal  points  in  these  objections  are 
that  abstract  thought  does  not  postulate  being  ; 
and  that  possibly  all  intelligence  is  not  one  in 
kind.  To  the  former  objection  the  most  satis- 
factory, reply  has  been  offered  by  Professor  J.  F. 
Ferrier.  He  has  shown  that  the  conception  of 
object,  even  ideal  object,  implies  the  conception 
of  self  in  the  subject ;  and  upon  this  proposition 
which  has  been  fully  recognized  even  by  those 
who  differ  from  him  widely,  he  grounds  the  ex- 
istence of  Supreme  Thought  as  a  logical  unity. 
Those  who  would  pursue  this  branch  of  the  sub- 
ject further,  I  would  refer  to  his  singularly  able 
work.1 

The  latter  consideration  will  come  up  in  a 
later  chapter.  If  it  be  shown  that  all  possible 
intelligence  proceeds  on  the  same  laws  as  that  of 
man,  and  that  the  essence  of  this  is  activity,  per- 
manence, or  truth — synonymous  terms — then 
the  limitation  of  time  ceases,  and  existence  not 
in  time  but  without  regard  to  time,  is  a  neces- 
sary consequence.  Knowledge  through  intellec- 
tion can  alone  reach  a  truth  independent  of  time ; 
that  through  sensation  is  always  relative,  true 

i  The  Institutes  of  Metaphysic,  2d  Ed.  See  also  Bain,  The 
Emotions  and  the  Will,  the  closing  note. 


44  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

for  the  time  only.  The  former  cannot  be  ex- 
pressed without  the  implication  of  the  concep- 
tions of  the  universal  and  the  eternal  as  "  domi- 
nant among  the  subjects  of  thought  with  which 
Logic  is  concerned;"1  and  hence  the  relation 
which  the  intellect  bears  to  the  absolute  is  a  real 
and  positive  one. 

1  Boole,  Laws  of  Thought,  p.  401. 


THE  EMOTIONAL  ELEMENTS  OF  THE 
RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 


SUMMARY. 


The  Religious  Sentiment  is  made  up  of  emotions  and  thoughts.  The 
emotions  are  historically  first  and  most  prominent.  Of  all  concerned,  Fear 
is  the  most  obvious.  Hope  is  its  correlate.  Both  suppose  Experience,  and  a 
desire  to  repeat  or  avoid  it.  Hence  a  Wish  is  the  source  of  both  emotions, 
and  the  proximate  element  of  religion.  The  significance  of  desire  as  the 
postulate  of  development.  The  influence  of  fear  and  hope.  The  conditions 
which  encourage  them. 

The  success  of  desire  fails  to  gratify  the  religious  sentiment.  The  alter- 
native left  is  eternal  repose,  or  else  action,  unending  yet  which  aims  at 
nothing  beyond.  The  latter  is  reached  through  Love.  The  result  of  love 
is  continuance.  Illustrations  of  this.  Sexual  love  aixl  the  venereal  sense  in 
religions.  The  hermaphrodite  gods.  The  virgin  mother.  Mohammed  was 
the  tirst  to  proclaim  a  deity  above  sex.  The  conversion  of  sexual  and  religious 
emotion  exemplified  from  insane  delusions.  The  element  of  fascination.  The 
love  of  God.  Other  emotional  elements  in  religions. 

The  religious  wish  denned  to  be  one  whose  fruition  depends  upon  unknown 
power.  To  be  religious,  one  must  desire  and  be  ignorant.  The  unknown 
power  is  of  religious  interest  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  believed  to  be  in  relation 
to  men's  desires.  In  what  sense  ignorance  is  the  mother  of  devotion. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE   EMOTIONAL    ELEMENTS     OF    THE    RELIGIOUS 
SENTIMENT. 

THE  discussion  in  the  last  chapter  illustrated 
how  closely  pain  and  pleasure,  truth  and  error, 
and  thought  and  its  laws  have  been  related  to 
the  forms  of  religions,  and  their  dogmatic  ex- 
pressions. The  character  of  the  relatively  and 
absolutely  true  was  touched  upon,  and  the  latter, 
it  was  indicated,  if  attainable  at  all  by  human  in- 
telligence, must  be  found  in  the  formal  laws  of 
that  intelligence,  those  which  constitute  its  na- 
ture and  essence,  and  in  the  conclusions  which 
such  a  premise  forces  upon  the  reason.  The 
necessity  of  this  preliminary  inquiry  arose  from 
the  fact  that  every  historical  religion  claims  the 
monopoly  of  the  absolutely  true,  and  such  claims 
can  be  tested  only  when  we  have  decided  as  to 
whether  there  is  such  truth,  and  if  there  is,  where 
it  is  to  be  sought.  Moreover,  as  religions  arise 
from  some  mental  demand,  the  different  mani- 
festations of  mind, — sensation,  emotion  and  intel- 
lect— must  be  recognized  and  understood. 

Passing  now  to  a  particular  description  of  the 


48  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Religious  Sentiment,  it  may  roughly  be  defined 
to  be  the  feeling  which  prompts  to  thoughts  or 
acts  of  worship.  It  is,  as  I  have  said,  a  complex 
product,  made  up  of  emotions  and  ideas,  develop- 
ing with  the  growth  of  mind,  wide-reaching  in 
its  maturity,  but  meagre  enough  at  the  start. 
We  need  not  expect  to  find  in  its  simplest  phases 
that  insight  and  tender  feeling  which  we  attrib- 
ute to  the  developed  religious  character.  "  The 
scent  of  the  blossom  is  not  in  the  bulb."  Its 
early  and  ruder  forms,  however,  will  best  teach 
the  mental  elements  which  are  at  its  root. 

The  problem  is,  to  find  out  why  the  primitive 
man  figured  to  himself  any  gods  at  all;  what 
necessity  of  his  nature  or  his  condition  led  him 
so  universally  to  assume  their  existence,  and  seek 
their  aid  or  their  mercy  ?  The  conditions  of  the 
solution  are,  that  it  hold  good  everywhere  and 
at  all  times ;  that  it  enable  us  to  trace  in  every 
creed  and  cult  the  same  sentiments  which  first 
impelled  man  to  seek  a  god  and  adore  him. 
Why  is  it  that  now  and  in  remotest  history,  here 
and  in  the  uttermost  regions,  there  is  and  always 
has  been  this  that  we  call  religion  f  There  must 
be  some  common  reason,  some  universal  pecu- 
liarity in  man's  mental  f ormation  which  prompts, 
which  forces  him,  him  alone  of  animals,  and  him 
without  exception,  to  this  discourse  and  observ- 
ance of  religion.  What  this  is,  it  is  nry  present 
purpose  to  try  to  find  out. 


RELIGION   AS  A  MATTER  OF  EMOTION.        49 

In  speaking  of  the  development  of  mind 
through  organism,  it  was  seen  that  the  emotions 
precede  the  reason  in  point  of  time.  This  is 
daily  confirmed  by  observation.  The  child  is 
vastly  more  emotional  than  the  man,  the  savage 
than  his  civilized  neighbor.  Castren,  the  Rus- 
sian traveller,  describes  the  Tartars  and  Lapps 
as  a  most  nervous  folk.  When  one  shocks  them 
with  a  sudden  noise,  they  almost  fall  into  con- 
vulsions. Among  the  North  American  Indians, 
falsely  called  a  phlegmatic  race,  nervous  diseases 
are  epidemic  to  an  almost  unparalleled  extent. 
Intense  thought,  on  the  other  hand,  as  I  have 
before  said,  tends  to  lessen  and  annul  the  emo- 
tions. Intellectual  self -consciousness  is  adverse 
to  them. 

But  religion,  we  are  everywhere  told,  is 
largely  a  matter  of  the  emotions.  The  pulpit 
constantly  resounds  with  appeals  to  the  feelings, 
and  not  unfrequently  with  warnings  against  the 
intellect.  "  I  acknowledge  myself,"  says  the 
pious  non-juror,  William  Law,  "  a  declared  en- 
emy to  the  use  of  reason  in  religion; "  and  he 
often  repeats  his  condemnation  of  "  the  labor- 
learned  professors  of  far-fetched  book-riches."  l 
As  the  eye  is  the  organ  of  sight,  says  one  whose 
thoughts  on  such  matters  equal  in  depth  those 
of  Pascal,  so  the  heart  is  the  organ  of  religion.2 

1  Address  to  the  Clergy,  pp.  42,  43,  67,  106,  etc. 

2  E.  von  Hardenberg  [Novalis],  Werke,  s.  364. 

4 


50  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

In  popular  physiology,  the  heart  is  the  seat  of 
the  emotions  as  the  brain  is  that  of  intellect.  It 
is  appropriate,  therefore,  that  we  commence  our 
analysis  of  the  religious  sentiment  with  the  emo- 
tions which  form  such  a  prominent  part  of  it. 

Now,  whether  we  take  the  experience  of  an 
individual  or  the  history  of  a  tribe,  whether  we 
have  recourse  to  the  opinions  of  religious  teach- 
ers or  irreligious  philosophers,  we  find  them 
nigh  unanimous  that  the  emotion  which  is  the 
prim€  motor  of  religious  thought  is  fear.  I  need 
not  depend  upon  the  well-known  line  of  Petro- 
nius  Arbiter, 

Primus  in  orbe  deos  fecit  timor  ; 

for  there  is  plenty  of  less  heterodox  authority. 
The  worthy  Bishop  Hall  says,  "  Seldom  doth 
God  seize  upon  the  heart  without  a  vehement 
concussion  going  before.  There  must  be  some 
blustering  and  flashes  of  the  law.  We  cannot  be 
too  awful  in  our  fear."  1  Bunyan,  in  his  beautiful 
allegory  of  the  religious  life,  lets  Christian  ex- 
claim :  "  Had  even  Obstinate  himself  felt  what  I 
have  felt  of  the  terrors  of  the  yet  unseen,  he 
would  not  thus  lightly  have  given  us  the  back" 
The  very  word  for  God  in  the  Semitic  tongues 
means  "fear;"2  Jacob  swore  to  Laban,  "by 

1  Treatises  Devotional  and  Practical,  p.  188.  London,  1836. 

2  In  Aramaic  dachla  means  either  a  god  or  fear.    The  Arabic 
Allah  and  the  Hebrew  Eloah  are  by  some  traced  to  a  common 


ON  HOPE  AND  FEAR.  51 

Him  whom  Isaac  feared;"  and  Moses  warned 
his  people  that  "  God  is  come,  that  his  fear  may 
be  before  your  faces."  To  venerate  is  from  a 
Sanscrit  root  (sev),  to  be  afraid  of. 

But  it  is  needless  to  amass  more  evidence 
on  this  point.  Few  will  question  that  fear  is  the 
nigst  prominent  emotion  at  the  awakening  of 
the  religious  sentiments.  Let  us  rather  pro- 
ceed to  inquire  more  minutely  what  fear  is. 

I  remarked  in  the  previous  chapter  that  "  the 
emotions  fall  naturally  into  a  dual  classification, 
in  which  the  one  involves  pleasurable  or  elevat- 
ing, the  other  painful  or  depressing  conditions/' 
Fear  comes  of  course  under  the  latter  category, 
as  it  is  essentially  a  painful  and  depressing  state 
of  mind.  But  it  corresponds  with  and  implies 
the  presence  of  Hope,  for  he  who  has  nothing  to 
hope  has  nothing  to  fear.1  "  There  is  no  hope 
without  fear,  as  there  is  no  fear  without  hope," 
says  Spinoza.  "  For  he  who  is  in  fear  has  some 
doubt  whether  what  he  fears  will  take  place, 
and  consequently  hopes  that  it  will  not." 

We  can  go  a  step  further,  and  say  that  in 
the  mental  process  the  hope  must  necessarily 
precede  the  fear.  In  the  immediate  moment  of 
losing  a  pleasurable  sensation  we  hope  and  seek 

root,  signifying  to  tremble,  to  show  fear,  though  the  more  usual 
derivation  is  from  one  meaning  to  be  strong. 

1 "  Wen  die  Hoffnung,  den  hat  auch  die  Furcht  verlassen." 
Arthur  Schopenhauer,  Parerga  und  Paralipomena.    Bd.  ii.  s.  474. 


52  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTfMENT. 

for  its'  repetition.  The  mind,  untutored  by  ex- 
perience, confidently  looks  for  its  return.  The 
hope  only  becomes  dashed  by  fear  when  expe- 
rience has  been  associated  with  disappointment. 
Hence  we  must  first  look  to  enjoy  a  good  before  we 
can  be  troubled  by  a  fear  that  wre  shall  not  enjoy 
it ;  we  must  first  lay  a  plan  before  we  can  fear 
its  failure.  In  modern  Christianity  hope,  hope 
of  immortal  happiness,  is  more  conspicuous  than, 
fear  ;  but  that  hope  is  also  based  on  the  picture 
of  a  pleasant  life  made  up  from  experience. 

Both  hope  and  fear,  therefore,  have  been 
correctly  called  secondary  or  derived  emotions,  as 
they  presuppose  experience  and  belief,  expe- 
rience of  a  pleasure  akin  to  that  which  we  hope, 
belief  that  we  can  attain  such  a  pleasure.  "  We 
do  not  hope  first  and  enjoy  afterwards,  but  we 
enjoy  first  and  hope  afterwards."  1  Having  en- 
joyed, we  seek  to  do  so  again.  A  desire,  in  other 
words,  must  precede  either  Hope  or  Fear.  They 
are  twin  sisters,  born  of  a  Wish. 

Thus  my  analysis  traces  the  real  source  of 
the  religious  sentiment,  so  far  as  the  emotions 
are  concerned,  to  a  Wish;  and  having  arrived 
there,  I  find  myself  anticipated  by  the  words  of 
one  of  the  most  reflective  minds  of  this  century : 


1  Alexander  Bain,  On  the  Study  of  Character,  p.  128.  See 
also  his  remarks  in  his  work,  The  Emotions  and  the  Will,  p.  84, 
and  in  his  notes  to  James  Mill's  Analysis  of  the  Mind,  vol.  i.,  pp. 
124-125. 


THE  MEANING  OF  DESIRE.  53 

"All  religion  rests  on  a  mental  want ;  we  hope, 
wre  fear,  because  we  wish."  l  And  long  before 
this  conclusion  was  reached  by  philosophers,  it 
had  been  expressed  in  unconscious  religious 
thought  in  myths,  in  the  Valkyria,  the  Wish- 
maidens,  for  instance,  who  carried  the  decrees  of 
Odin  to  earth. 

This  is  no  mean  origin,  for  a  wish,  a  desire, 
conscious  or  unconscious,  in  sensation  only  or  in 
emotion  as  well,  is  the  fundamental  postulate 
of  every  sort  of  development,  of  improvement, 
of  any  possible  future,  of  life  of  any  kind, 
mental  or  physical.  In  its  broadest  meaning, 
science  and  history  endorse  the  exclamation  of 
the  unhappy  Obermann  :  "  La  perte  vraiment 
irreparable  est  cells  des  desirs"  2 

The  sense  of  unrest,  the  ceaseless  longing 
for  something  else,  which  is  the  general  source 
of  all  desires  and  wishes,  is  also  the  source  of 
all  endeavor  and  of  all  progress.  Physiolog- 
ically, it  is  the  effort  of  our  organization  to  adapt 
itself  to  the  ever  varying  conditions  which  sur- 
round it;  intellectually,  it  is  the  struggle  to 
arrive  at  truth ;  in  both,  it  is  the  effort  to  attain 
a  fuller  life. 

As  stimuli  to  action,  therefore,  the  com- 
monest and  strongest  of  all  emotions  are  Fear 

1Wilhelmvon  Humboldt's  Gesammelte  Werke,  Bd.  vii.,   s. 
62. 

2  De  Senancourt,  Obermann,  Lettre  xli. 


54  THE   RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT. 

and  Hope.  They  are  the  emotional  correlates  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  which  rule  the  life  of  sen- 
sation. Their  closer  consideration  may  well 
detain  us  awhile. 

In  the  early  stages  of  religious  life,  whether 
in  an  individual  or  a  nation,  the  latter  is  half 
concealed.  Fear  is  more  demonstrative,  and  as 
it  is  essentially  destructive,  its  effects  are  more 
sudden  and  visible.  In  its  acuter  forms,  as  Fright 
and  Terror,  it  may  blanch  the  hair  in  a  night, 
blight  the  mind  and  destroy  the  life  of  the  in- 
dividual. As  Panic,  it  is  eminently  epidemic, 
carrying  crowds  and  armies  before  it ;  while  in 
the  aggravated  form  of  Despair  it  swallows  up 
all  other  emotions  and  prompts  to  self  destruc- 
tion. Its  physiological  effect  is  a  direct  impair- 
ment of  vitality. 

Hope  is  less  intense  and  more  lasting  than 
fear.  It  stimulates  the  system,  elates  with  the 
confidence  of  control,  strengthens  with  the 
courage  derived  from  a  conviction  of  success, 
and  bestows  in  advance  the  imagined  joy  of 
possession.  As  Feuchtersleben  happily  expresses 
it :  "  Hope  preserves  the  principle  of  duration 
when  other  parts  are  threatened  with  destruc- 
tion, and  is  a  manifestation  of  the  innermost 
psychical  energy  of  Life." 

Both  emotions  powerfully  prompt  to  action, 

1  Elements  of  Medical  Psychology,  p.  331. 


IXCEXTIVES  TO  FEAR.  .      55. 

and  to  that  extent  are  opposed  to  thought. 
Based  on  belief,  they  banish  uncertainty,  and 
antagonize  doubt  and  with  it  investigation.  The 
religion  in  which  they  enter  as  the  principal 
factors  will  be  one  intolerant  of  opposition, 
energetic  in  deed,  and  generally  hostile  to  an 
unbiased  pursuit  of  the  truth. 

Naturally  those  temperaments  and  those 
physical  conditions  which  chiefly  foster  these 
emotions  will  tend  to  religious  systems  in  which 
they  are  prominent.  Let  us  see  what  some  of 
these  conditions  are. 

It  has  always  been  noticed  that  impaired 
vitality  predisposes  to  fear.  The  sick  and  feeble 
are  more  timorous  than  the  strong  and  well. 
Further  predisposing  causes  of  the  same  nature 
are  insufficient  nourishment,  cold,  gloom,  mala- 
ria, advancing  age  and  mental  worry.  For  this 
reason  nearly  invariably  after  a  general  financial 
collapse  we  witness  a  religious  "  revival."  Age, 
full  of  care  and  fear,  is  thus  prompted  to  piety, 
willing,  as  La  Rochefoucauld  remarks,  to  do 
good  by  precept  when  it  can  no  longer  do  evil 
by  example.  The  inhabitants  of  swampy,  fever- 
ridden  districts  are  usually  devout.  The  female 
sex,  always  the  weaker  and  often  the  worsted 
one  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  is  when  free 
more  religious  than  the  male ;  but  with  them 
hope  is  more  commonly  the  incentive  than 
fear. 


55  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Although  thus  prominent  and  powerful, 
desire,  so  far  as  its  fruition  is  pleasure,  has 
expressed  but  the  lowest  emotions  of  the  re- 
ligious sentiment.  Something  more  than  this 
has  always  been  asked  by  sensitively  religious 
minds.  Success  fails  to  bring  the  gratification 
it  promises.  The  wish  granted,  the  mind  turns 
from  it  in  satiety.  Not  this,  after  all,  was  what 
we  sought. 

The  acutest  thinkers  have  felt  this.  Pascal  in 
his  Pensees  has  such  expressions  as  these  :  "  The 
present  is  never  our  aim.  The  future  alone  is 
our  object."  "  Forever  getting  ready  to  be 
happy,  it  is  certain  we  never  can  be."  "  'Tis 
the  combat  pleases  us  and  not  the  victory.  As 
soon  as  that  is  achieved,  we  have  had  enough 
of  the  spectacle.  So  it  is  in  play,  so  it  is  in  the 
search  for  truth.  We  never  pursue  objects,  but 
we  pursue  the  pursuit  of  objects."  But  no  one 
has  stated  it  more  boldly  than  Lessing  when  he 
wrote :  "  If  God  held  in  his  right  hand  all  truth, 
and  in  his  left  the  one  unceasingly  active  desire 
for  truth,  although  bound  up  with  the  law  that  I 
should  forever  err,  I  should  choose  with  humility 
the  left  and  say :  '  Give  me  this,  Father.  The 
pure  truth  is  for  thee  alone.'  "  *  The  pleasure 
seems  to  lie  not  in  the  booty  but  in  the  battle, 
not  in  gaining  the  stakes  but  in  playing  the 

1  Lessing's  Gesammelte  Werke.     B.  ii.  s.  443  (Leipzig,  1855). 


REST  FOR  THE  WEARY.  57 

game,  not  in  the  winning  but  in  the  wooing,  not 
in  the  discovery  of  truth  but  in  the  search  for  it. 

What  is  left  for  the  wise,  but  to  turn,  as  does 
the  preacher,  from  this  delusion  of  living,  where 
laughter  is  mad  and  pleasure  is  vain,  and  praise 
the  dead  which  are  dead  more  than  the  living 
which  are  yet  alive,  or  to  esteem  as  better  than 
both  he  that  hath  never  been  ? 

Such  is  the  conclusion  of  many  faiths. 
Wasted  with  combat,  the  mortal  longs  for  the 
rest  prepared  for  the  weary.  Buddha  taught 
the  extinguishment  in  Nirvana;  the  Brahman 
portrays  the  highest  bliss  as  shanti,  complete  and 
eternal  repose  ;  and  that  the  same  longing  was 
familiar  to  ancient  Judaism,  and  has  always  been 
common  to  Christianity,  numerous  evidences 
testify.1  Few  epitaphs  are  more  common  than 
those  which  speak  of  the  mortal  resting  in  pace, 
in  quiete. 

The  supposition  at  the  root  of  these  longings 
is  that  action  must  bring  fatigue  and  pain,  and 
though  it  bring  pleasure  too,  it  is  bought  too 
dearly.  True  in  fact,  I  have  shown  that  this 
conflicts  with  the  theory  of  perfect  life,  even 
organic  life.  The  highest  form  of  life  is  the 
most  unceasing  living ;  its  functions  ask  for  their 

i  See  Exodu%,  xxiii.  12;  Psalms,  Iv.  6;  Isaiah,  xxx.  15  ; 
Jeremiah,  vi.  16  ;  Hebrews,  v.  9.  So  St.  Augustine:  "  et  nos 
post  opera  nostra  f  sabbato  vitae  eternae  requiescamus  in  te." 
Confessionum  Lib.  xiii.  cap.  36. 


58  THE  RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT. 

completest  well  being  constant  action,  not  satis- 
faction. That  general  feeling  of  health  and 
strength,  that  sens  de  Men  etre,  which  goes  with 
the  most  perfect  physical  life,  is  experienced  only 
when  all  the  organs  are  in  complete  working  order 
and  doing  full  duty.  They  impart  to  the  whole 
frame  a  desire  of  motion.  Hence  the  activity 
of  the  young  and  healthy  as  contrasted  with  the 
inertness  of  the  exhausted  and  aged. 

How  is  it  possible  to  reconcile  this  ideal  of 
life,  still  more  the  hope  of  everlasting  life,  with 
the  acknowledged  vanity  of  desire  ?  It  is  ac- 
complished through  the  medium  of  an  emotion 
which  more  than  any  I  have  touched  upon 
reveals  the  character  of  the  religious  sentiment 
— Love.  This  mighty  but  protean  feeling  I 
shall  attempt  to  define  on  broader  principles 
than  has  hitherto  been  done.  The  vague  and 
partial  meanings  assigned  it  have  led  to  sad  con- 
fusion in  the  studies  of  religions.  In  the  lan- 
guage of  feeling,  love  is  a  passion  ;  but  it  does 
not  spring  from  feeling  alone.  It  is  far  more 
fervid  when  it  rises  through  intellect  than 
through  sense.  "Men  have  died  from  time 
to  time,  and  worms  have  eaten  them,  but  not 
for  love,"  says  the  fair  Eosalind  ;  and  though 
her  saying  is  not  very  true  as  to  the  love  of 
sense,  it  is  far  less  true  as  to  the  love  of  intel- 
lect. The  martyrs  to  science  and  religion,  to 
principles  and  faith,  multiply  a  'hundred-fold 


WHEREIN  ALL  LOVE  IS  ONE.  59 

those  to  the  garden  god.  The  spell  of  the  idea 
is  what 

"  Turns  ruin  into  laughter  and  death  into  dreaming." 

Such  love  destroys  the  baser  passion  of  sense,  or 
transfigures  it  so  that  we  know  it  no  longer. 
The  idea-driven  is  callous  to  the  blandishments 
of  beauty,  for  his  is  a  love  stronger  than  the  love 
to  woman.  The  vestal,  the  virgin,  the  eunuch 
for  the  kingdom  of  heaven's  sake  are  the  exemp- 
lars of  the  love  to  God. 

What  common  trait  so  marks  these  warring 
products  of  mind,  that  wre  call  them  by  one 
name  ?  In  what  is  all  love  the  same  ?  The 
question  is  pertinent,  for  the  love  of  woman, 
the  love  of  neighbor,  the  love  of  country,  the 
love  of  God,  have  made  the  positive  side  of 
most  religions,  the  burden  of  their  teachings. 
The  priests  of  Cotytto  and  Venus,  Astarte  and 
Melitta,  spoke  but  a  more  sensuous  version  of 
the  sermon  of  the  aged  apostle  to  the  Ephesians, 
— shortest  and  best  of  all  sermons — "  Little 
children,  love  one  another."  J 

The  earliest  and  most  constant  sign  of  reason 
is  "working  for  a  remote  object."2  Nearly 
everything  we  do  is  as  a  step  to  something  be- 
yond. Forethought,  conscious  provision,  is  the 

1  "  Filioli,  diligite  alterutrum."     This  is  the  "  testamentura 
Johannis,"  as  recorded  from  tradition  by   St.   Jerome  in   his 
notes  to  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians. 

2  Alexander  Bain,   The  Senses  and  the  Intellect,  Chap.  I. 


60  THE   RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT. 

measure  of  intelligence.  But  there  must  be 
something  which  is  the  object,  the  aim,  the  end- 
in- view  of  rational  action,  which  is  sought  for 
itself  alone,  not  as  instrumental  to  something 
else.  Such  an  object,  when  recognized,  inspires 
the  sentiment  of  love.  It  springs  from  the  sat- 
isfaction of  reason. 

This  conclusion  as  to  the  nature  of  love  has 
long  been  recognized  by  thinkers.  Kichard 
Baxter  defined  it  as  "  the  volition  of  the  end," 
"  the  motion  of  the  soul  that  tendeth  to  the  end," 
and  more  minutely,  "  the  will's  volition  of  good 
apprehended  by  the  understanding."  l  In  simi- 
lar language  Bishop  Butler  explains  it  as  "  the 
resting  in  an  object  as  an  end."  Perhaps  I 
can  better  these  explanations  by  the  phrase, 
Love  is  the  mental  impression  of  rational  action 
whose  end  is  in  itself. 

Now  this  satisfaction  is  found  only  in  one 
class  of  efforts,  namely,  those  whose  result  is 
continuity,  persistence,  in  fine,  preservation. 
This  may  be  toward  the  individual,  self-love, 
whose  object. is  the  continuance  of  personal  ex- 
istence ;  toward  the  other  sex,  where  the  hidden 
aim  is  the  perpetuation  of  the  race;  toward 


1  A  Christian  Directory.     Part  I.  Chap.  III. 

2  "  The  very  nature  of  affection,  the  idea  itself,   necessarily 
implies  resting  in  its  object  as  an   end."     Fifteen  Sermons    ly 
Joseph  Butler,  late  Lord  Bishop  of  Durham,  Preface,  and  p.  147 
(London,  1841). 


LOVE  THE  BURDEN  OF  RELIGION.  61 

one's  fellows,  where  the  giving  of  pleasure  and 
the  prevention  of  pain  mean  the  maintenance  of 
life  ;  toward  one's  country,  as  patriotism ;  and 
finally  toward  the  eternally  true,  which  as  alone 
the  absolutely  permanent  and  preservative,  in- 
spires a  love  adequate  and  exhaustive  of  its 
conception,  casting  out  both  hope  and  fear,  the 
pangs  of  desire  as  well  as  the  satiety  of  fruition. 

In  one  or  other  of  these  forms  love  has  at  all 
times  been  the  burden  of  religion :  the  glad  tid- 
ings it  has  always  borne  have  been  "  love  on 
earth."  The  Phoenix  in  Egyptian  myth  appeared 
yearly  as  newly  risen,  but  was  ever  the  same  bird, 
and  bore  the  egg  from  which  its  parent  was  to 
have  birth.  So  religions  have  assumed  the 
guise  .  in  turn  of  self-love,  sex-love,  love  of 
country  and  love  of  humanity,  cherishing  in  each 
the  germ  of  that  highest  love  which  alone  is 
the  parent  of  its  last  and  only  perfect  embodi- 
ment. 

Favorite  of  these  forms  was  sex-love.  "  We 
find,"  observes  a  recent  writer,  "  that  all  relig- 
ions have  engaged  and  concerned  themselves 
with  the  sexual  passion.  From  the  times  of 
phallic  worship  through  Romish  celibacy  down 
to  Mormonism,  theology  has  linked  itself  with 
man's  reproductive  instincts." l  The  remark 
is  just,  and  is  most*  conspicuously  correct  in 

i  Dr.  J.  Milner  Fothergill,  Journal  of  Mental  Science,  Oct. 
1874,  p.  198. 


G2  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

strongly  emotional  temperaments.  "  The  de- 
votional feelings,"  writes  the  Kev.  Frederick 
Robertson  in  one  of  his  essays,  "  are  often  singu- 
larly allied  to  the  animal  nature ;  they  conduct 
the  unconscious  victim  of  feelings  that  appear 
divine  into  a  state  of  life  at  which  the  world 
stands  aghast."  Fanaticism  is  always  united 
with  either  excessive  lewdness  or  desperate 
asceticism.  The  physiological  performance  of 
the-  generative  function  is  sure  to  be  attacked  by 
religious  bigotry. 

So  prominent  is  this  feature  that  attempts 
have  been  made  to  explain  nearly  all  symbolism 
and  mythology  as  types  of  the  generative  pro- 
cedure and  the  reproductive  faculty  of  organ- 
ism. Not  only  the  pyramids  and  sacred  moun- 
tains, the  obelisks  of  the  Nile  and  the  myths  of 
light  have  received  this  interpretation,  but  even 
such  general  symbols  as  the  spires  of  churches,  the 
cross  of  Christendom  and  the  crescent  of  Islam.1 

Without  falling  into  the  error  of  supposing  that 
any  one  meaning  or  origin  can  be  assigned  such 
frequent  symbols,  we  may  acknowledge  that  love, 
in  its  philosophical  sense,  is  closely  akin  to  the 
mystery  of  every  religion.  That,  on  occasions, 
love  of  sex  gained  the  mastery  over  all  other 
forms,  is  not  to  be  doubted ;  but  that  at  all  times 

1  The  most  recent  work  on  the  topic  is  that  of  Messrs. 
Westropp  and  Wake,  The  Influence  of  the  Phallic  Idea  on  the 
Religions  of  Antiquity,  London,  1874. 


THE  GEOWTH  OF  SEX-LOVE.  63 

this  was  so,  is  a  narrow,  erroneous  view,  not  con- 
sistent with  a  knowledge  of  the  history  of  psy- 
chical development. 

Sex-love,  as  a  sentiment,  is  a  cultivated  growth. 
All  it  is  at  first  is  a  rude  satisfaction  of  the  ere- 
thism. The  wild  tribes  of  California  had  their 
pairing  seasons  when  the  sexes  were  in  heat,  "as 
regularly  as  the  deer,  the  elk  and  the  antelope."  l 
In  most  tongues  of  the  savages  of  North  Amer- 
ica there  are  no  tender  words,  as  "dear,"  "darling," 
and  the  like.2  No  desire  of  offspring  led  to 
their  unions.  The  women  had  few  children,  and 
their  fathers  paid  them  little  attention.  The 
family  instinct  appears  in  conditions  of  higher 
culture,  in  Judea,  Greece,  Rome  and  ancient  Ger- 
many. Procreation  instead  of  lust  was  there  the 
aim  of  marriage.  To-day,  mere  sentiment  is  so 
much  in  the  ascendant  that  both  these  elements 
are  often  absent.  There  is  warm  affection  with- 
out even  instinctive  knowledge  of  the  design  of 
the  bond  assumed.3 

Those  who  would  confine  the  promptings  of 
the  passion  of  reproduction  as  it  appears  in  man 
to  its  objects  as  shown  in  lower  animals,  know 

1  Schoolcraft's  History  and  Statistics  of  the  Indian  TVifaffyVol. 
iv.p.  22 1. 

2  Richardson,  Arctic  Expedition,  p.  412. 

3  Most  physicians  have  occasion  to  notice  the  almost  entire 
loss  in  modern  life  of  the  instinctive  knowledge  of  the  sex  rela- 
tion.    Sir  James  Paget  has  latelv  treated  of  the  subject  in  one 
of  his  Clinical  Lectures  (London,  1875). 


64  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

little  how  this  wondrous  emotion  has  acted  as 
man's  mentor  as  well  as  paraclete  in  his  long 
and  toilsome  conflict  with  the  physical  forces. 

The  venereal  sense  is  unlike  the  other  special 
senses  in  that  it  is  general,  as  well  as  referable  to 
special  organs  and  nerves.  In  its  psychological 
action  it  "  especially  contributes  to  the  develop- 
ment of  sympathies  which  connect  man  not  only 
with  his  coevals,  but  with  his  fellows  of  all  pre- 
ceding and  succeeding  generations  as  well. 
Upon  it  is  erected  this  vast  superstructure  of  in- 
tellect, of  social  and  moral  sentiment,  of  volun- 
tary effort  and  endeavor." 1  Of  all  the  properties 
of  organized  matter,  that  of  transmitting  form 
and  life  is  the  most  wonderful ;  and  if  we  ex- 
amine critically  the  physical  basis  of  the  labors 
and  hopes  of  mankind,  if  we  ask  what  prompts 
its  noblest  and  holiest  longings,  we  shall  find 
them,  in  the  vast  majority  of  instances,  directly 
traceable  to  this  power.  No  wonder  then  that  re- 
ligion, which  we  have  seen  springs  from  man's 
wants  and  wishes,  very  often  bears  the  distinct 
trace  of  their  origin  in  his  reproductive  func- 
tions. The  liens  of  the  family  are  justly  deemed 
sacred,  and  are  naturally  associated  with  what- 
ever the  mind  considers  holy. 

The  duty  of  a  citizen  to  become  a  father  was 

1  Dr.  J.  P.  Catlow,  Principles  of  Aesthetic  Medicine,  p.  112. 
This  thoughtful  though  obscure  writer  has  received  little  recog- 
nition even  in  the  circle  of  professional  readers. 


THE  EPICENE  GODS.  65 

a  prominent  feature  in  many  ancient  religions. 
How  much  honor  the  sire  of  many  sons  had  in 
Rome  and  Palestine  is  familiar  to  all  readers.  No 
warrior, according  to  German  faith,  could  gain  en- 
trance to  Valhalla  unless  he  had  begotten  a  son. 
Thus  the  preservation  of  the  species  was  placed 
under  the  immediate  guardianship  of  religion. 

Such  considerations  explain  the  close  connec- 
tion of  sexual  thoughts  with  the  most  sacred 
mysteries  of  faith.  In  polytheisms,  the  divin- 
ities are  universally  represented  as  male  or 
female,  virile  and  fecund.  The  processes  of 
nature  were  oftenjield  to  be  maintained  through 
such  celestial  nuptials. 

Yet  stranger  myths  followed  those  of  the 
loves  of  the  gods.  Religion,  as  the  sentiment  of 
continuance,  finding  its  highest  expression  in 
the  phenomenon  of  generation,  had  to  reconcile 
this  with  the  growing  concept  of  a  divine  unity. 
Each  separate  god  was  magnified  in  praises  as 
self-sufficient.  Earth,  or  nature,  or  the  season 
is  one,  yet  brings  forth  all.  How  embody  this 
in  concrete  form  ? 

The  startling  refuge  was  had  in  the  image  of 
a  deity  at  once  of  both  sexes.  Such  avowedly 
were  Mithras,  Janus,  Melitta,  Cybele,  Aphrodite, 
Agdistis ;  indeed  nearly  all  the  Syrian,  Egyp- 
tian, and  Italic  gods,  as  well  as  Brahma,  and,  in 
the  esoteric  doctrine  of  the  Cabala,  even  Jeho- 
vah, whose  female  aspect  is  represented  by  the 


66  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

"Shekinah."  To  this  abnormal  condition  the 
learned  have  applied  the  adjectives  epicene,  an- 
drogynous, hermaphrodite,  arrenothele.  In  art 
it  is  represented  by  a  blending  of  the  traits  of 
both  sexes.  In  the  cult  it  was  dramatically  set 
forth  by  the  votaries  assuming  the  attire  of  the 
other  sex,  and  dallying  with  both.1  The  phal- 
lic symbol  superseded  all  others  ;  and  in  Cyprus, 
Babylonia  and  Phrygia,  once  in  her  life,  at  least, 
must  every  wroman  submit  to  the  embrace  of  a 
stranger. 

Such  rites  were  not  mere  sensualities.  The 
priests  of  these  divinities  often  voluntarily  suf- 
fered emasculation.  None  but  a  eunuch  could 
become  high  priest  of  Cybele.  Among  the  six- 
teen million  worshippers  of  Siva,  whose  symbol 
is  the  Lingam,  impurity  is  far  less  prevalent 
than  among  the  sister  sects  of  Hindoo  religions.2 
To  the  Lingayets,  the  member  typifies  abstractly 
the  idea  of  life.  Therefore  they  carve  it  on 
sepulchres,  or,  like  the  ancient  nations  of  Asia 
Minor,  they  lay  clay  images  of  it  on  graves  to 
intimate  the  hope  of  existence  beyond  the  tomb. 

This  notion  of  a  hermaphrodite  deity  is  not 
"  monstrous,"  as  it  has  been  called.  There  lies 

• 

1  This  is  probably  what  was  condemned   in  Deuteronomy 
xxii.  5,  and  Romans,  i.  26. 

2  "  The  worship  of  Siva  is  too  severe,  too  stern  for  the  softer 
emotions  of  love,  and  all  his  temples  are  quite  free  from  any 
allusions  to  it." — Ferguson,  Tree  and  Serpent  Worship,  p.  71. 


THE  IDEAL  IS  SEXLESS.  67 

a  deep  meaning  in  it.  The  gods  are  spirits, 
beings  of  another  order,  which  the  cultivated 
esthetic  sense  protests  against  classing  as  of  one 
or  the  other  gender.  Never  can  the  ideal  of 
beauty,  either  physical  or  moral,  be  reached  un- 
til the  characteristics  of  sex  are  lost  in  the  con- 
cept of  the  purely  human.  In  the  noblest  men 
of  history  there  has  often  been  noted  something 
feminine,  a  gentleness  which  is  not  akin  to  weak- 
ness ;  and  the  women  whose  names  are  orna- 
ments to  nations  have  displayed  a  calm  great- 
ness, not  unwomanly  but  something  more  than 
belongs  to  woman.  Art  acknowledges  this.  In 
the  Vatican  Apollo  we  see  masculine  strength 
united  with  maidenly  softness ;  and  in  the  tra- 
ditional face  and  figure  of  Christ  a  still  more 
striking  example  how  the  devout  mind  conjoins 
the  traits  of  both  sexes  to  express  the  highest 
possibility  of  the  species.  "  Soaring  above  the 
struggle  in  which  the  real  is  involved  with  its 
limitations,  and  free  from  the  characteristics  of 
gender,  the  ideal  of  beauty  as  well  as  the  ideal 
of  humanity,  alike  maintain  a  perfect  sexual 
equilibrium."  * 

Another  and  more  familiar  expression  of  the 
religious  emotion,  akin  to  the  belief  in  double- 

1  W.  von  Ilumboldt,  in  his  admirable  essay  Ueber  die 
Mdnnliche  und  Welbliche  Form  (  Werke,  Ed.  I.).  Elsewhere  he 
adds  :  "  In  der  Natur  des  Goettlichen  strebt  alles  der  Reinheit 
und  Vollkommt-nheit  des  Gattungsbegriff  eiitgegen. ' ' 


68  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

sexed  deities, — nay,  in  its  physiological  aspect 
identical  with  it,  as  assuming  sexual  self-suffi- 
ciency, is  the  myth  of  the  Virgin-Mother. 

When  Columbus  first  planted  the  cross  on 
the  shores  of  San  Domingo,  the  lay  brother 
Koman  Pane,  whom  he  sent  forth  to  convert  the 
natives  of  that  island,  found  among  them  a  story 
of  a  virgin  Mamona,  whose  son  Yocauna,  a 
hero  and  a  god,  was  chief  among  divinities,  and 
had  in  the  old  times  taught  this  simple  people 
the  arts  of  peace  and  guided  them  through  the 
islands. l  When  the  missionaries  penetrated  to 
the  Iroquois,  the  Aztecs,  the  Mayas,  and  many 
other  tribes,  this  same  story  was  told  them  with 
such  startling  likeness  to  one  they  came  to  tell, 
that  they  felt  certain  either  St.  Thomas  or  Satan 
had  got  the  start  of  them  in  America. 

But  had  these  pious  men  known  as  well  as 
we  do  the  gentile  religions  of  the  Old  World, 
they  would  have  seasoned  their  admiration. 
Long  before  Christianity  was  thought  of,  the 
myth  of  the  Virgin-Mother  of  God  was  in  the 
faith  of  millions,  as  we  have  had  abundantly 
shown  us  of  late  years  by  certain  expounders  of 
Christian  dogmas. 

How  is  this  strange,  impossible  belief  to  be 

1 1  have  collected  the  Haitian  myths,  chiefly  from  the  manu- 
script Hittnria  Apologetica  de  las  Indias  Occidentales  of  Las 
Casas,  in  an  essay  published  in  1871,  The  Arawack  Language 
of  Guiana  in  its  Linguistic  and  Ethnological  Relations. 


THE  VIRGIN-MOTHERS.  69 

explained  ?  Of  what  secret,  unconscious,  psy- 
chological working  was  it  the  expression  ?  Look 
at  its  result.  It  is  that  wherever  this  doctrine 
is  developed  the  status  matrimonialis  is  held  to 
be  less  pure,  less  truly  religious,  than  the  status 
virgmitatis.  Such  is  the  teaching  to-day  in 
Lhassa,  in  Rome ;  so  it  was  in  Yucatan, 
where,  too,  there  were  nunneries  filled  with 
spouses  of  God.  I  connect  it  with  the  general 
doctrine  that  chastity  in  either  sex  is  more 
agreeable  to  God  than  marriage,  and  this  belief, 
I  think,  very  commonly  arises  at  a  certain  stage 
of  development  of  the  religious  sentiment,  when 
it  unconsciously  recognises  the  indisputable  fact 
that  sex-love,  whether  in  its  form  of  love  of 
woman,  family,  or  nation,  is  not  what  that  senti- 
ment craves.  This  is  first  shown  by  rejecting 
the  idea  of  sex-love  in  the  birth  of  the  god  ;  then 
his  priests  and  priestesses  refuse  its  allurements, 
and  deny  all  its  claims,  those  of  kindred,  of 
country,  of  race,  until  the  act  of  generation  it- 
self is  held  unholy  and  the  thought  of  sex  a  sin. 
By  such  forcible  though  rude  displays  do  they 
set  forth  their  unconscious  acknowledgment  of 
that  eternal  truth:  "  He  that  loveth  son  or 
daughter  more  than  Me,  is  not  worthy  of  Me." 

The  significance  of  these  words  is  not  that 
there  is  an  antagonism  in  the  forms  of  love.  It 
is  not  that  man  should  hate  himself,  as  Pascal, 
following  the  teachings  of  the  Church,  so  ably 


70  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

argued ;  nor  that  the  one  sex  should  be  set  over 
against  the  other  in  sterile  abhorrence ;  nor  yet 
that  love  of  country  and  of  kindred  is  incompat- 
ible with  that  toward  the  Supreme  of  thought ; 
but  it  is  that  each  of  these  lower,  shallower, 
evanescent  forms  of  emotion  is  and  must  be  lost 
in,  subordinated  to,  that  highest  form  to  which 
these  words  have  reference.  Reconciliation,  not 
abnegation,  is  what  they  mean. 

Even  those  religions  which  teach  in  its  strict- 
ness the  oneness  of  God  have  rarely  separated 
from  his  personality  the  attribute  of  sex.  He  is 
the  father,  pater  et  genitor,  of  all  beings.  The 
monotheism  which  we  find  in  Greece  and  India 
generally  took  this  form.  The  ancient  Hebrews 
emphasized  the  former,  not  the  latter  sense  of 
the  word,  and  thus  depriving  it  of  its  more 
distinctive  characteristics  of  sex,  prepared  the 
way  for  the  teachings  of  Christianity,  in  which 
the  Supreme  Being  always  appears  with  the  at- 
tributes of  the  male,  but  disconnected  from  the 
idea  of  generation. 

Singularly  enough,  the  efforts  to  which  this 
latent  incongruity  prompts,  even  in  persons 
speaking  English,  in  which  tongue  the  articles 
and  adjectives  have  no  genders,  point  back  to 
the  errors  of  an  earlier  age.  A  recent  prayer  by 
an  eminent  spiritualist  commences  : — "  Oh  Eter- 
nal Spirit,  our  Father  and  our  Mother !  "  The 
expression  illustrates  how  naturally  arises  the 


SEXLESS  DIVINITY.  71 

belief  in  a  hermaphrodite  god,  when  once  sex  is 
associated  with  deity. 

Of  all  founders  of  religions,  Mohammed  first 
proclaimed  a  divinity  without  relation  to  sex. 
One  of  his  earliest  suras  reads  : 

"  He  is  God  alone, 
God  the  eternal. 

He  begetteth  not,  and  is  not  begotten  ; 
And  there  is  none  like  unto  him." 

And  elsewhere : — 

"  He  hath  no  spouse,  neither  hath  hs  any  offspring."1 

While  he  expressly  acknowledged  the  divine 
conception  of  Jesus,  he  denied  the  coarse  and 
literal  version  of  that  doctrine  in  vogue  among 
the  ignorant  Christians  around  him.  Enlight- 
ened Christendom,  to-day,  does  not,  I  believe, 
differ  from  him  on  this  point. 

Such  sexual  religions  do  not  arise,  as  the 
theory  has  hitherto  been,  from  study  and  obser- 
vation of  the  generative  agencies  in  nature,  but 
from  the  identity  of  object  between  love  in  sense 
and  love  in  intellect,  profane  and  sacred  passion. 
The  essence  of  each  is  continuance,  preservation  ; 
the  origin  of  each  is  subjective,  personal;  but 
the  former  has  its  root  in  sensation,  the  latter  in 
reason. 

The  sex-difference  in  organisms,  the  "  ab- 
horrence of  self-fertilization  "  which  Mr.  Darwin 
speaks  of  as  so  conspicuous  and  inexplicable  a 

1    The  Koran,  Suras,  cxii.,  Ixii.,  and  especially  xix. 


72  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

phenomenon,  is  but  one  example  of  the  sway  of 
a  law  which  as  action  and  reaction,  thesis  and 
antithesis,  is  common  to  both  elementary  motion 
and  thought.  The  fertile  and  profound  fancy 
of  Greece  delighted  to  prefigure  this  truth  in 
significant  symbols  and  myths.  Love,  Eros, 
is  shown  carrying  the  globe,  or  wielding  the 
club  of  Hercules ;  he  is  the  unknown  spouse 
of  Psyche,  the  soul;  and  from  the  primitive 
chaos  he  brings  forth  the  ordered  world,  the 
Kosmos. 

The  intimate  and  strange  relation  between  sen- 
suality and  religion,  so  often  commented  upon  and 
denied,  again  proven,  and  always  misinterpreted, 
thus  receives  a  satisfactory  explanation.  Some 
singular  manifestations  of  it,  of  significance  in 
religious  history,  are  presented  by  the  records  of 
insane  delusions.  They  confirm  what  I  have  above 
urged,  that  the  association  is  not  one  derived  from 
observation  through  intellectual  processes,  but 
is  a  consequence  of  physiological  connections,  of 
identity  of  aim  in  the  distinct  realms  of  thought 
and  emotion. 

That  eminent  writer  on  mental  diseases, 
Schroeder  van  der  Kolk,  when  speaking  of  the 
forms  of  melancholy  which  arise  from  physi- 
cal conditions,  remarks  :  "  The  patient  who  is 
melancholy  from  disorders  of  the  generative 
organs  considers  himself  sinful.  His  depressed 
tone  of  mind  passes  over  into  religious  melan- 


SEXUAL  RELIGIOUS  DELUSIONS.  73 

choly  ;  '  he  is  forsaken  by  God  •  he  is  lost/ 
All  his  afflictions  have  a  religious  color."  In  a 
similar  strain,  Feuchtersleben  says  :  "  In  the 
female  sex  especially,  the  erotic  delusion,  un- 
known to  the  patient  herself,  often  assumes  the 
color  of  the  religious."  l  "  The  unaccomplished 
sexual  designs  of  nature,"  observes  a  later  author 
speaking  of  the  effects  of  the  single  life,  "  lead  to 
brooding  over  supposed  miseries  which  suggest 
devotion  and  religious  exercise  as  the  nepenthe 
to  soothe  the  morbid  longings."  2 

Stimulate  the  religious  sentiment  and  you 
arouse  the  passion  of  love,  which  will  be  direct- 
ed as  the  temperament  and  individual  culture 
prompt.  Develope  very  prominently  any  one 
form  of  love,  and  by  a  native  affinity  it  will  seize 
upon  and  consecrate  to  its  own  use  whatever 
religious  aspirations  the  individual  has.  This  is 
the  general  law  of  their  relation. 

All  the  lower  forms  of  love  point  to  one  to 
which  they  are  the  gradual  ascent,  both  of  the 
individual  and  on  a  grander  scale  of  the  race,  to 
wit,  the  love  of  God.  This  is  the  passion  for  the 
highest  attainable  truth,  a  passion  which,  as  duty, 
prompts  to  the  strongest  action  and  to  the  utter 
sacrifice  of  all  other  longings.  No  speculative 
acquaintance  with  propositions  satisfies  it,  no 

1  Elements  of  Medical  Psychology,  p.  281. 

2  J.  Thompson  Dickson,  The  Science  and  Practice  of  Medi- 
cine in  relation  to  Mind,   p.  383  (New  York,  1874). 


74  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

egotistic  construction  of  systems,  but  the  truth 
expressed  in  life,  the  truth  as  that  which  alone 
either  has  or  can  give  being  and  diuturnity,  this 
is  its  food,  for  which  it  thirsts  with  holy  ardor. 
Here  is  the  genuine  esoteric  gnosis,  the  sacred 
secret,  which  the  rude  and  selfish  wishes  of  the 
savage,  the  sensual  rites  of  Babylon,  "  mother 
of  harlots,"  and  the  sublimely  unselfish  dreams 
of  a  "  religion  of  humanity,"  have  alike  had  in 
their  hearts,  but  had  no  capacity  to  interpret, 
no  words  to  articulate. 

Related  to  this  emotional  phase  of  the  relig- 
ious sentiment  is  the  theurgic  power  of  certain 
natural  objects  over  some  persons.  The  bibli- 
cal scholar  Kitto  confesses  that  the  moon  exerted 
a  strange  influence  on  his  mind,  stirring  his 
devotional  nature,  and  he  owns  that  it  would  not 
have  been  hard  for  him  to  join  the  worshippers 
of  the  goddess  of  the  night.  Wilhelm  von  Hum- 
boldt  in  one  of  his  odes  refers  to  similar  feelings 
excited  in  him  by  the  gloom  and  murmur  of 
groves.  The  sacred  poets  and  the  religious  arts 
generally  acknowledge  this  fascination,  as  it  has 
been  called,  which  certain  phenomena  have  for 
religious  temperaments. 

The  explanation  which  suggests  itself  is  that 
of  individual  and  ancestral  association.  In  the 
case  of  Kitto  it  was  probably  the  latter.  His 
sensitively  religious  nature  experienced  in  gazing 
at  the  moon  an  impression  inherited  from  some 


RELIGIOUS  EPILEPTICS.  75 

remote  ancestor  who  had  actually  made  it  the 
object  of  ardent  worship.  The  study  of  the  laws 
of  inherited  memory,  so  successfully  pursued  of 
late  by  Professor  Laycock,  take  away  anything 
eccentric  about  this  explanation,  though  I 
scarcely  expect  it  will  be  received  by  one  un- 
acquainted with  those  laws. 

The  emotional  aspect  of  religion  is  not  ex- 
hausted by  the  varieties  of  fear  and  hope  and 
love.  Wonder,  awe,  admiration,  the  aesthetic 
emotions,  in  fact  all  the  active  principles  of 
man's  mental  economy  are  at  times  excited  and 
directed  by  the  thought  of  supernatural  power. 
Some  have  attempted  to  trace  the  religious  sen- 
timent exclusively  to  one  or  the  other  of  these. 
But  they  are  all  incidental  and  subsidiary  emo- 
tions. 

Certain  mental  diseases,  by  abnormally  stim- 
ulating the  emotions,  predispose  strongly  to  re- 
ligious fervor.  Epilepsy  is  one  of  these,  and  in 
Swedenborg  and  Mohammed,  both  epileptics,  we 
see  distinguished  examples  of  religious  mystics, 
who,  no  doubt  honestly,  accepted  the  visions 
which  accompanied  their  disease  as  revelations 
from  another  world.  Very  many  epileptics  are 
subject  to  such  delusions,  and  their  insanity  is 
usually  of  a  religious  character. 

On  the  other  hand,  devotional  excitement  is 
apt  to  bring  about  mental  alienation.  Every 
violent  revival  has  left  after  it  a  small  crop  of 


76  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

religious  melancholies  and  lunatics.  Competent 
authorities  state  that  in  modern  communities  re- 
ligious insanity  is  most  frequent  in  those  sects 
who  are  given  to  emotional  forms  of  religion, 
the  Methodists  and  Baptists  for  example  ;  where- 
as it  is  least  known  among  Roman  Catholics, 
where  doubt  and  anxiety  are  at  once  allayed  by 
an  infallible  referee,  and  among  the  Quakers, 
where  enthusiasm  is  discouraged  and  with  whom 
the  restraint  of  emotion  is  a  part  of  discipline.1 
Authoritative  assurance  in  many  disturbed  con- 
ditions of  mind  is  sufficient  to  relieve  the  mental 
tension  and  restore  health. 

If,  by  what  has  been  said,  it  is  clear  that  the 
religious  sentiment  has  its  origin  in  a  wish,  it  is 
equally  clear  that  not  every  wish  is  concerned  in 
it.  The  objects  which  a  man  can  attain  by  his 
own  unaided  efforts,  are  not  those  which  he 
makes  the  subjects  of  his  prayers ;  nor  are  the 
periodic  and  regular  occurrences  in  nature,  how 
impressive  they  may  be,  much  thought  of  in  de- 
votional moods.  The  moment  that  an  event  is 
recognized  to  be  under  fixed  law, it  is  seen  to  be 
inappropriate  to  seek  by  supplication  to  alter 
it.  No  devotee,  acquainted  with  the  theory  of 
the  tides,  would,  like  Canute  the  King,  think  of 
staying  their  waves  with  words.  Eclipses  and 

1  Dr.  Joseph  Williams,  Insanity,  its  Causes,  Prevention  and 
Cure,  pp.  68,  69  ;  Dr.  A.  L.  Wigan,  The  Duality  of  the  Mind, 
p.  437. 


THE  RELIGIOUS   WISH.  77 

comets,  once  matters  of  superstitious  terror,  have 
been  entirely  shorn  of  this  attribute  by  astron- 
omical discovery.  Even  real  and  tragic  misfor- 
tunes, if  believed  to  be  such  as  flow  from  fixed 
law,  and  especially  if  they  can  be  predicted 
sometime  before  they  arrive,  do  not  excite 
religious  feeling.  As  Bishop  Hall  quaintly  ob- 
serves, referring  to  a  curious  medieval  supersti- 
tion :  "  Crosses,  after  the  nature  of  the  cocka- 
trice, die  if  they  be  foreseen." 

Only  when  the  event  suggests  the  direct  ac- 
tion of  mind,  of  some  free  intelligence,  is  it  pos- 
sible for  the  religious  sentiment  to  throw  around 
it  the  aureole  of  sanctity.  Obviously  when 
natural  law  was  little  known,  this  included  vastly 
more  occurrences  than  civilized  men  now  think 
of  holding  to  be  of  religious  import.  Hence  the 
objective  and  material  form  of  religion  is  always 
fostered  by  ignorance,  and  this  is  the  form  which 
prevails  exclusively  in  uncultivated  societies. 

The  manifestations  of  motion  which  the  child 
first  notices,  or  which  the  savage  chiefly  observes, 
relate  to  himself.  They  are  associated  with  the* 
individuals  around  him  who  minister  to  his  wants  ; 
the  gratification  of  these  depend  on  the  volitions 
of  others.  As  he  grows  in  strength  he  learns  to 
supply  his  own  wants,  and  to  make  good  his  own 
volitions  as  against  those  of  his  fellows.  But  he 
soon  learns  that  many  events  occur  to  thwart 
him,  out  of  connection  with  any  known  indi- 


78  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMEXT. 

vidual,  and  these  of  a  dreadful  nature,  hurricanes 
and  floods,  hunger,  sickness  and  death.  These 
pursue  him  everywhere,  foiling  his  plans,  and 
frustrating  his  hopes.  It  is  not  the  show  of 
power,  the  manifestations  of  might,  that  he  cares 
for  in  these  events,  but  that  they  touch  him, 
that  they  spoil  his  projects,  and  render  vain  his 
desires ;  this  forces  him  to  cast  about  for  some 
means  to  protect  himself  against  them. 

In  accordance  with  the  teaching  of  his  ex- 
perience, and  true  moreover  to  the  laws  of 
mind,  he  refers  them,  collectively,  to  a  mental 
source,  to  a  vague  individuality.  This  loose,  un- 
defined conception  of  an  unknown  volition  or 
power  forms  the,  earliest  notion  of  Deity.  It 
is  hardly  associated  with  personality,  yet  it  is 
broadly  separated  from  the  human  and  the 
known.  In  the  languages  of  savage  tribes,  as  I 
have  elsewhere  remarked,  "a  word  is  usually 
found  comprehending  all  manifestations  of  the 
unseen  world,  yet  conveying  no  sense  of  per- 
sonal unity." 

By  some  irieans  to  guard  against  this  unde- 
fined marplot  to  the  accomplishment  of  his  wishes, 
is  the  object  of  his  religion.  Its  primitive  forms 
+  jjire  therefore  defensive  and  conciliatory.  The 
hopes  of  the  savage  extend  little  beyond  the 
reach  of  his  own  arm,  and  the  tenor  of  his 

1  The  Myths  .of  the  New   World,  a  Treatise  on   the  Symbolism 
and  Mythology  of  the  Red  Race  of  America,  p.  145. 


ELEMENTS  OF  THE  WISH.  79 

prayers  is  that  the  gods  be  neuter.  If  they  do 
not  interfere  he  can  take  care  of  himself.  His 
religion  is  a  sort  of  assurance  of  life. 

Not  only  the  religion  of  the  savage,  but  every 
religion  is  this  and  not  much  but  this.  With 
nobler  associations  and  purer  conceptions  of  life, 
the  religious  sentiment  ever  contains  these  same 
elements  and  depends  upon  them  for  its  vigor 
and  growth.  It  everywhere  springs  from  a 
desire  whose  fruition  depends  upon  unknown 
power.  To  give  the  religious  wish  a  definition 
in  the  technic  of  psychology,  I  define  it  as  :  Ex- 
pectant Attention,  directed  toward  an  event  not 
under  known  control,  with  a  concomitant  idea 
of  Cause  or  Power. 

Three  elements  are  embraced  in  this  defini- 
tion, a  wish,  an  idea  of  power,  ignorance  of  the 
nature  of  that  power.  The  first  term  prompts 
the  hope,  the  third  suggests  the  fear,  and  the 
second  creates  the  personality,  which  we  see  set 
forth  in  every  religious  system.  Without  these 
three,  religion  as  dogma  becomes  impossible. 

If  a  man  wishes  for  nothing,  neither  the 
continuance  of  present  comforts  nor  future 
blessings,  why  need  he  care  for  the  gods  ?  Who 
can  hurt  him,  so  long  as  he  stays  in  his  frame  of 
mind  ?  He  may  well  shake  off  all  religions  and 
every  fear,  for  he  is  stronger  than  God,  and  the 
universe  holds  nothing  worth  his  effort  to  get. 
This  was  the  doctrine  taught  by  Buddha  Sakya- 


80  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

nuni,  a  philosopher  opposed  to  every  form  of 
religion,  but  who  is  the  reputed  founder  of  the 
most  numerous  sect  now  on  the  globe.  He 
sought  to  free  the  minds  of  his  day  from  the 
burden  of  the  Brahmanic  ritual,  by  cultivating 
a  frame  of  mind  beyond  desire  or  admiration, 
and  hence  beyond  the  need  of  a  creed. 

The  second  element,  the  idea  of  power,  is  an 
intellectual  abstraction.     Its  character  is  fluctu- 
ating.    At  first  it  is  most  vague,  corresponding 
to   what   in  its   most   general   sense   we   term 
"  the  supernatural."    Later,  it  is  regarded  under 
its  various  exhibitions  as  separable  phenomena, 
as  in  polytheisms,  in  which  must  be  included  trini- 
tarian  systems  and  the  dualistic  doctrine  of  the 
Parsees.     But  among  the  Egyptians,  Greeks  and 
Aztecs,  as  well  as  in  the  words  of  Zarathustra  and 
in  the  theology  of  Christianity, we  frequently  meet 
with  the  distinct  recognition  of  the  fundamental 
unity  of  all  power.     At  core,  all  religions  have 
seeds  of  monotheism.     When  we  generalize  the 
current   concepts    of   motion    or   force    beyond 
individual    displays    and    relative    measures    of 
quantity,  we  recognize  their  qualitative  identity, 
and  appreciate  the  logical  unity  under  which  we 
must  give  them  abstract  expression.    This  is  the 
process,  often  unconscious,  which   has   carried 
most  original  thinkers  to  monotheistic  doctrines, 
no  matter  whence  they  started. 

The  idea  of  power  controlling  the  unknown 


FIRST  IDEAS  OF  RELIGION.  81 

would  of  itself  have  been  of  no  interest  to  man 
had  he  not  assumed  certain  relations  to  exist 
between  him  and  it  on  the  one  hand,  and  it  and 
things  on  the  other.  A  dispassionate  inquiry 
disproves  entirely  the  view  maintained  by 
various  modern  writers,  prominently  by  Bain, 
Spencer  and  Darwin,  that  the  contemplation  of 
power  or  majesty  in  external  nature  prompts  of 
itself  the  religious  sentiment,  or  could  have  been 
its  historical  origin.  Such  a  view  overlooks  the 
most  essential  because  the  personal  factor  of 
religion — the  wish.  Far  more  correct  are  the 
words  of  David  Hume,  in  the  last  century,  by 
which  he  closes  his  admirable  Natural  History 
'of  Religions :  "  We  may  conclude,  therefore,  that 
in  all  nations  the  first  ideas  of  religion  arose  not 
from  a  contemplation  of  the  works  of  nature, 
but  from  a  concern  with  regard  to  the  events  of 
life,  and  from  the  incessant  hopes  and  fears 
which  actuate  the  human  mind."  A  century 
before  him  Hobbes  had  written  in  his  terse  way : 
"  The  natural  seed  of  religion  lies  in  these  four 
things  :  the  fear  of  spirits,  ignorance  of  secondary 
causes,  the  conciliation  of  those  we  fear,  and  the 
assumption  of  accidents  for  omens."1  The  sen- 
timent of  religion  is  in  its  origin  and  nature 
purely  personal  and  subjective.  The  aspect  of 
power  would  never  have  led  man  to  worship, 
unless  he  had  assumed  certain  relations  between 

1  Leviathan,  De  Homine,  cap.  xii. 

G 


82  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

the  unseen  author  or  authors  of  that  power  and 
himself.  What  these  assumptions  were,  I  shall 
discuss  in  the  next  chapter. 

Finally,  as  has  so  often  been  remarked  in  a 
flippant  and  contemptuous  way,1  which  the  fact 
when  rightly  understood  nowise  justifies,  religion 
cannot  exist  without  the  aid  of  ignorance.  It  is 
really  and  truly  the  mother  of  devotion.  The 
sentiment  of  religious  fear  does  not  apply  to  a 
known  power — to  the  movement  of  an  opposing 
army,  or  the  action  of  gravity  in  an  avalanche 
for  example.  The  prayer  which  under  such 
circumstances  is  offered,  is  directed  to  an  un- 
known intelligence,  supposed  to  control  the  vis- 
ible forces.  As  science — which  is  the  knowl- 
edge of  physical  laws — extends,  the  object  of 
prayer  becomes  more  and  more  intangible  and 
remote.  What  we  formerly  feared,  we  learn  to 
govern.  No  one  would  pray  God  to  avert  the 
thunderbolt,  if  lightning  rods  invariably  pro- 
tected houses.  The  Swiss  clergy  opposed  the 
system  of  insuring  growing  crops  because  it 
made  their  parishioners  indifferent  to  prayers 
for  the  harvest.  With  increasing  knowledge 

i  For  instance,  of  later  writers  from  whom  we  might  expect 
better  things,  Arthur  Schopenhauer.  He  says  in  his  Parerga 
(Bd.  ii.  s.  290) :  "  Ein  gewisser  Grad  allgemeiner  Unwissenheit 
ist  die  Bedingung  aller  Religionen  ;  "  a  correct  remark,  and 
equally  correct  of  the  pursuit  of  science  and  philosophy.  But 
the  ignorance  which  is  the  condition  of  such  pursuit  is  not  a  part 
of  science  or  philosophy,  and  no  more  is  it  of  religion. 


MAN  ROBS  THE  GODS.  83 

and  the  security  which  it  brings,  religious  terror 
lessens,  and  the  wants  which  excite  the  sentiment 
of  devotion  diminish  in  number  and  change  in 
character. 

This  is  apt  to  cast  general  discredit  on 
religion.  When  we  make  the  discovery  that  so 
many  events  which  excited  religious  apprehen- 
sion in  the  minds  of  our  forefathers  are  governed 
by  inflexible  laws  Which  we  know  all  about,  we 
not  only  smile  in  pity  at  their  superstitions,  but 
make  the  mental  inference  that  the  diminished 
emotion  of  this  kind  we  yet  experience  is  equally 
groundless.  If  at  the  bottom  of  all  displays  of 
power  lies  a  physical  necessity,  our  qualms  are 
folly.  Therefore,  to  the  pious  soul  which  still 
finds  the  bulk  of  its  religious  aspirations  and 
experiences  in  the  regions  of  the  emotions  and 
sensations,  the  progress  of  science  seems  and 
really  does  threaten  its  cherished  convictions. 
The  audacious  mind  of  man  robs  the  gods  of 
power  when  he  can  shield  himself  from  their 
anger.  The  much-talked-of  conflict  between 
religion  and  science  is  no  fiction;  it  exists,  and 
is  bound  to  go  on,  and  religion  will  ever  get  the 
worst  of  it  until  it  learns  -that  the  wishes  to 
which  it  is  its  proper  place  to  minister  are  not 
those  for  pleasure  and  prosperity,  not  for 
abundant  harvests  and  seasonable  showers,  not 
success  in  battle  and  public  health,  not  preser- 
vation from  danger  and  safety  on  journeys,  not 


84  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

much  of  anything  that  is  spoken  of  in  litanies 
and  books  of  devotion. 

Let  a  person  who  still  clings  to  this  form  of 
religion  imagine  that  science  had  reached  per- 
fection in  the  arts  of  life  ;  that  by  skilled  adap- 
tations of  machinery,  accidents  by  sea  and  land 
were  quite  avoided ;  that  observation  and  ex- 
perience had  taught  to  foresee  with  certainty  and 
to  protect  effectively  against  all  meteoric  dis- 
turbances ;  that  a  perfected  government  insured 
safety  of  person  and  property ;  that  a  consummate 
agriculture  rendered  want  and  poverty  unknown ; 
that  a  developed  hygiene  completely  guarded 
against  disease  ;  and  that  a  painless  extinction 
of  life  in  advanced  age  could  surely  be  calcu- 
lated upon;  let  him  imagine  this,  and  then  ask 
himself  what  purpose  religion  would  subserve 
in  such  a  state  of  things  ?  For  whatever  would 
occupy  it  then — if  it  could  exist  at  all — should 
alone  occupy  it  now. 


THE  RATIONAL  POSTULATES  OF  THE 
RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT. 


SUMMARY. 


Religion  often  considered  merely  an  affair  of  the  feelings.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  must  assume  at  least  three  premises  in  reason,  its  "  rational  postu- 
lates." 

I.  There  is  Order  in  things. 

The  religious  wish  involves  the  idea  of  cause.  This  idea  not  exhausted 
by  uniformity  of  sequence,  bat  by  quantitative  relation,  that  is,  Order  as 
opposed  to  Chance.  Both  science  and  religion  assume  order  in  things  ;  but 
the  latter  includes  the  Will  of  God  in  this  order,  while  the  former  rejects  it. 

II.  This  order  is  one  of  Intelligence. 

The  order  is  assumed  to  be  a  comprehensible  one,  whether  it  be  of  law 
wholly  or  of  volition  also. 

III.  All  Intelligence  is  one  in  kind. 

This  postulate  indispensable  to  religion,  although  it  has  been  attacked  by 
religious  as  well  as  irreligious  philosophers.  Its  decision  must  res*  on  the 
absoluteness  of  the  formal  laws  of  thought.  The  theory  that  these  are  pro- 
ducts of  natural  selections  disproved  by  showing,  (1)  that  they  hold  true 
throughout  the  material  universe,  and  (2)  that  they  do  not  depend  on  it  for 
their  verity.  Reason  seee  beyond  phenomena,  but  descries  nothing  alien  to 
itself. 

The  fonnal  laws  of  reason  are  purposive.  They  therefore  afford  »  pre- 
sumption of  a  moral  government  of  the  Universe,  and  point  to  an  Intelli- 
gence fulfilling  an  end  through  the  order  in  physical  laws.  Such  an  assump- 
tion, common  to  all  historic  religions,  is  thus  justified  by  induction. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   KATIONAL     POSTULATES    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS 
SENTIMENT. 

IN  philosophical  discussions  of  religion  as 
well  as  in  popular  exhortations  upon  it,  too  ex- 
clusive stress  has  been  laid  upon  its  emotional 
elements.  "  It  is/'  says  Professor  Bain,  "  an 
affair  of  the  feelings." 1  "  The  essence  of  relig- 
ion," observes  John  Stuart  Mill,  "  is  the  strong 
and  earnest  direction  of  the  emotions  and  desires 
towards  an  ideal  object."  "  It  must  be  allowed," 
says  Dr.  Mansel,2  "  that  it  is  not  through  reason- 
ing that  men  obtain  their  first  intimation  of  their 
relation  to  a  deity."  In  writers  and  preachers  of 
the  semi-mystical  school,  which  embraces  most  of 
the  ardent  revivalists  of  the  day,  we  constantly 
hear  the  "feeling  of  dependence"  quoted  as 
the  radical  element  of  religious  thought.3  In 

1  The   Emotions   and   Will,    p.   594.     So  Professor  Tyndall 
speaks  of  confining  the  religious  sentiment  to  "  the  region  of 
emotion,  which  is  its  proper  sphere." 

2  II.  L.  Mansel,    The  Limits  of  Religious   Thought,    p.   115. 
(Boston,  1859.) 

3  "  The  one  relation  which  is  the  ground  of  all  true  religion  is 
a  total  dependence  upon  God."     William  Law,  Address  to  the 
Clergy,  p.  12.     "  The  essential  germ  of  the  religious  life  is  con- 


88  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

America  Theodore  Parker,  and  in  Germany 
Schleiermacher,  were  brilliant  exponents  of  this 
doctrine.  To  the  latter  the  philosopher  Hegel 
replied  that  if  religion  is  a  matter  of  feeling,  an 
affectionate  dog  is  the  best  Christian. 

This  answer  was  not  flippant,  but  founded  on 
the  true  and  only  worthy  conception  of  the  relig- 
ious sentiment.  We  have  passed  in  review  the 
emotions  which  form  a  part  of  it,  and  recognize 
their  power.  But  neither  these  nor  any  other 
mere  emotions,  desires  or  feelings  can  explain 
even  the  lowest  religion.  It  depends  for  its  ex- 
istence on  the  essential  nature  of  reason.  We 
cannot  at  all  allow,  as  Dr.  Mansel  asks  of  us,  that 
man's  first  intimations  of  Deity  came  in  any 
other  way  than  as  one  of  the  ripest  fruits  of  rea- 
son. Were  such  the  case,  we  should  certainly 
find  traces  of  them  among  brutes  and  idiots, 
which  we  do  not.  The  slight  signs  of  religious 
actions  thought  to  have  been  noticed  by  some 
in  the  lower  animals,  by  Sir  John  Lubbock  in 
ants,  and  by  Charles  Darwin  in  dogs,  if  authen- 
ticated, would  vindicate  for  these  species  a  much 
closer  mental  kinship  to  man  than  we  have  yet 
supposed. 

If  we  dispassionately  analyze  any   religion 

centrated  in  the  absolute  feeling  of  dependence  on  infinite 
power."  J.  D.  Morell,  The  Philosophy  of  Religion,  p.  94.  (Xew 
York,  1849.)  This  accomplished  author,  \vell  known  for  his 
llixtory  of  Philosophy,  is  the  most  able  English  exponent  of  the 
religious  views  of  Schleiermacher  and  Jacobi. 


THE  THREE  POSTULATES.  89 

whatever,  paying  less  attention  to  what  its  pro- 
fessed teachers  say  it  is,  than  to  what  the  mass 
of  the  votaries  believe  it  to  be,  we  shall  see  that 
every  form  of  adoration  unconsciously  assumes 
certain  premises  in  reason,  which  give  impulse 
and  character  to  its  emotional  and  active  mani- 
festations. They  are  its  data  or  axioms,  or, 
as  I  shall  call  them,  its  "  rational  postulates." 
They  can,  I  believe,  be  reduced  to  three,  but 
not  to  a  lesser  number. 

Before  the  religious  feeling  acquires  the  dis- 
tinctness of  a  notion  and  urges  to  conscious  ac- 
tion, it  must  assume  at  least  these  three  postu- 
lates, and  without  them  it  cannot  rise  into  cog- 
nition. These,  their  necessary  character  and 
their  relations,  I  shall  set  forth  in  this  chapter. 

They  are  as  follows  : — 

I.  There  is  Order  in  things. 
II.  This  order  is  one  of  Intelligence. 
III.  All  Intelligence  is  one  in  kind. 

I.  The  conscious  or  unconscious  purpose  of 
the  religious  sentiment,  as  I  have  shown  in  the 
last  chapter,  is  the  fruition  of  a  wish,  the  suc- 
cess of  which  depends  upon  unknown  power. 
The  votary  asks  help  where  he  cannot  help  him- 
self. He  expects  it  through  an  exertion  of  pow- 
er, through  an  efficient  cause.  Obviously  there- 
fore, he  is  acting  on  the  logical  idea  of  Caus- 
ality. This  underlies  and  is  essential  to  the  sim- 


90  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

plest  prayer.  He  extends  it,  moreover,  out  of 
the  limits  of  experience  into  the  regions  of  hypo- 
thesis. He  has  carried  the  analogy  of  observa- 
tion into  the  realm  of  abstract  conceptions.  No 
matter  if  he  does  believe  that  the  will  of  God 
is  the  efficient  cause.  Perhaps  he  is  right ;  at 
any  rate  he  cannot  be  denied  the  privilege  of 
regarding  volition  as  a  co-operating  cause. 
Limited  at  first  to  the  transactions  which  most 
concerned  men,  the  conception  of  order  as  a 
divine  act  extended  itself  to  the,  known  universe. 
Herodotus  derives  the  Greek  word  for  God 
(#£«?)  from  a  root  which  gives  the  meaning 
"  to  set  in  order,"  and  the  Scandinavians  gave 
the  same  sense  to  their  word,  Regln.1  Thus  the 
abstract  idea  of  cause  or  power  is  a  postulate 
of  all  religious  thought.  Let  us  examine  its 
meaning. 

Every  reader,  the  least  versed  in  the  history 
of  speculative  thought  for  the  last  hundred 
years,  knows  how  long  and  violent  the  discus- 
sions have  been  of  the  relations  of  "  cause  and 
effect."  Startled  by  the  criticisms  of  Hume, 
Kant  sought  to  elude  them  by  distinguishing 
between  two  spheres  of  thought,  the  understand- 
ing and  the  reason.  Sir  William  Hamilton  at 

1 "  Weil  sie  die  Welt  eingericlitet  haben."  Creuzer,  Symbrtk 
vnd  Mythologie  der  altenVcelker,  Bd.  I.  s.  169.  It  is  not  of  any 
importance  that  Herodotus'  etymology  is  incorrect  :  what  I  wish 
to  show  is  that  he  and  his  contemporaries  entertained  the  con- 
ception of  the  gods  as  the  authors  of  order. 


CAUSE  AND  EFFECT.  91 

first  included  the  "  principle  of  sufficient  reason' 
in  the  laws  of  thought,  but  subsequently  rejected 
it  as  pertaining  to  judgments,  and  therefore  ma- 
terial, not  formal.  Schopenhauer  claimed  to 
have  traced  it  to  a  fourfold  root,  and  Mill  with 
most  of  the  current  English  schools,  Bain,  Austin, 
Spencer,  &c.,  maintained  that  it  meant  nothing 
but  "uniformity  of  sequence." 

It  would  be  vain  to  touch  upon  a  discussion  so 
extended  as  this.  In  the  first  chapter  I  have 
remarked  that  the  idea  of  cause  does  not  enter 
into  the  conceptions  of  pure  logic  or  thought. 
It  is,  as  Hamilton  saw,  material.  I  shall  only 
pause  to  show  what  is  meant  by  the  term  "  cause" 
in  the  physical  sciences.  When  one  event  follows 
another,  time  after  time,  we  have  "  uniformity  of 
sequence."  Suppose  the  constitution  of  the 
race  were  so  happy  that  we  slept  at  night  only, 
and  always  awoke  a  few  moments  before  sunrise. 
Such  a  sequence  quite  without  exception,  should, 
if  uniform  experience  is  the  source  of  the  idea 
of  cause,  justly  lead  to  the  opinion  that  the  sun 
rises  because  man  awakes.  As  we  know  this 
conclusion  would  be  erroneous,  some  other 
element  beside  sequence  must  complete  a  real 
cause.  If  now,  it  were  shown  that  the  relation 
of  cause  to  effect  which  we  actually  entertain  and 
cannot  help  entertaining  is  in  gome  instances 
flatly  contrary  to  all  experience,  then  we  must 
acknowledge  that  the  idea  of  cause  asks  to  con- 


92  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

firm  it  something  quite  independent  of  expe- 
rience, that  is  abstract.  But  such  examples 
are  common.  We  never  saw  two  objects  con- 
tinue to  approach  without  meeting ;  but  we 
are  constrained  to  believe  that  lines  of  certain 
descriptions  can  forever  approach  and  never 
meet. 

The  uniformity  of  sequence  is,  in  fact,  in  the 
physical  sciences  never  assumed  to  express  the 
relation  of  cause  and  effect,  until  the  connection 
between  the  antecedent  and  consequent  can  be 
set  forth  abstractly  in  mathematical  formula1. 
The  sequence  of  the  planetary  motions  was 
discovered  by  Kepler,  but  it  was  reserved 
for  Newton  to  prove  the  theoretical  neces- 
sity of  this  motion  and  establish  its  mathe- 
matical relations.  The  sequence  of  sensations 
to  impressions  is  well  known,  but  the  law  of 
the  sequence  remains  the  desideratum  in  psy- 
chology.1 

Science,  therefore,  has  been  correctly  defined 
as  "  the  knowledge  of  system."  Its  aim  is  to 
ascertain  the  laws  of  phenomena,  to  define  the 
"  order  in  things."  Its  fundamental  postulate  is 
that  order  exists,  that  all  things  are  "  lapped  in 
universal  law."  It  acknowledges  no  exception, 
and  it  considers  that  all  law  is  capable  of  final 
expression  in  quantity,  in  mathematical  symbols. 

1  This  distinction   is  well  set  forth  by  A.  von  Humboldt, 
Kosmos,  p.  388  (Phila.,  1869). 


ORDER  IN  THINGS.  93 

It  is  the  manifest  of  reason,  "whose  unceasing 
endeavor  is  to  banish  the  idea  of  Chance." 

We  thus  see  that  its  postulate  is  the  same 
as  that  of  the  religious  sentiment.  Wherein 
then  do  they  differ  ?  Not  in  the  recognition  of 
chance.  Accident,  chance,  does  not  exist  for 
the  religious  sense  in  any  stage  of  its  growth. 
Everywhere  religion  proclaims  in  the  words  of 
Dante : — 

"  le  cose  tutte  quante, 
Hann'  ordine  tra  loro  ;  " 

everywhere  in  the  more  optimistic  faiths  it  holds 
this  order,  in  the  words  of  St.  Augustine,  to  be 
one  "  most  fair,  of  excellent  things." 2 

What  we  call  "the  element  of  chance  "  is 
in  its  scientific  sense  that  of  which  wre  do  not 
know  the  law ;  while  to  the  untutored  religious 
mind  it  is  the  manifestation  of  divine  will.  The 
Kamschatkan,  when  his  boat  is  lost  in  the  storm, 
attributes  it  to  the  vengeance  of  a  god  angered 
because  he  scraped  the  snow  from  his  shoes  with 
a  knife,  instead  of  using  a  piece  of  wood ;  if  a 
Dakota  has  bad  luck  in  hunting,  he  says  it  is 
caused  by  his  wife  stepping  over  a  bone  and 

1  "  Ueberallden  Zufall  zu  verbannen,  zu  verhindern,  dass  in 
dem  Gebiete  des  Beobachtens  mid  Denkens  er  niclit  zu  herrschen 
scheine,    im    Gebiete   dps   Handelns   nicht   herrsche,    ist    das 
Streben     der     Vernunft."     Wilhelm    von     Humboldt,    Ueber 
Goethe's  Hermann  und  Dorothea,  iv. 

2  "  Tste  ordo   pulcherrimus  rerura  valde  bonarum."     Con- 
fessioneSj  Lib.  xiii.  cap.  xxxv. 


94  27/7?  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

thus  irritating  a  spirit.  The  idea  of  cause,  the 
sentiment  of  order,  is  as  strong  as  ever,  but 
it  differs  from  that  admitted  by  science  in 
recognizing  as  a  possible  efficient  motor  that 
which  is  incapable  of  mathematical  expression, 
namely,  a  volition,  a  will.  Voluntas  Dei  asyliuii 
ignorantice,  is  no  unkind  description  of  such  an 
opinion. 

So  long  as  this  recognition  is  essential  to  tho 
life  of  a  religious  system,  just  so  long  it  will 
and  must  be  in  conflict  with  science,  with 
every  prospect  of  the  latter  gaining  the  vic- 
tory. Is  the  belief  in  volition  as  an  efficient 
cause  indispensable  to  the  religious  sentiment 
in  general  ?  For  this  vital  question  we  are  not 
yet  prepared,  but  must  first  consider  the  re- 
maining rational  postulates  it  assumes.  The 
second  is 

II.  This  order  is  one  of  intelligence. 

By  this  is  not  meant  that  the  order  is  one  of 
an  Intelligence,  but  simply  that  the  order  which 
exists  in  things  is  conformable  to  man's  thinking 
power, — that  if  he  knows  the  course  of  events 
he  can  appreciate  their  relations, — that  facts 
can  be  subsumed  under  thoughts.  Whatever 
scheme  of  order  there  were,  would  be  nothing 
to  him  unless  it  were  conformable  to  his  intel- 
lectual functions.  It  could  not  form  the  matter 
of  his  thought.1 

i "  The  notion  of  a  God  is  not  contained  in  the  mere  notion 


AN  INTELLIGIBLE  ORDER.  95 

Science,  which  deals  in  the  first  instance 
exclusively  with  phenomena,  also  assumes  this 
postulate.  It  recognizes  that  when  the  formal 
laws,  which  it  is  its  mission  to  define,  are  ex- 
amined apart  from  their  material  expression, 
when  they  are  emptied  of  their  phenomenal 
contents,  they  show  themselves  to  be  logical 
constructions,  reasoned  truths,  in  other  words, 
forms  of  intelligence.  The  votary  who  assumes  the 
order  one  of  volition  alone,  or  volition  with  physi- 
cal necessity,  still  assumes  the  volitions  are  as 
comprehensible  as  are  his  own  ;  that  they  are 
purposive  ;  that  the  order,  even  if  not  clear  to 
him,  is  both  real  and  reasonable.  Were  it  not 
so,  did  he  believe  that  the  gods  carried  out 
their  schemes  through  a  series  of  caprices  in- 
conceivable to  intelligence,  through  absolute 
chance,  insane  caprice,  or  blind  fate,  he  could 
neither  see  in  occurrences  the  signs  of  divine 
rule,  nor  hope  for  aid  in  obtaining  his  wishes. 
In  fact,  order  is  only  conceivable  to  man  at 
all  as  an  order  conformable  to  his  own  intelli- 
gence. 

This  second  postulate  embraces  what  has 
been  recently  called  the  "  Principle  of  con- 
tinuity," indispensable  to  sane  thought  of  any 
kind.  A  late  work  defines  it  as  "  the  trust  that 
the  Supreme  Governor  of  the  Universe  will  nqt 

of  Cause,  that  is  the  notion  of  Fate  or  Power.  To  this  must 
be  added  Intelligence,"  etc.  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton,  Lectures  on 
Afetaphysics,  Lecture  ii. 


96  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

put  us  to  permanent  intellectual  confusion."1 
Looked  at  closely,  it  is  the  identification  of  order 
with  reason. 

The  third  and  final  postulate  of  the  religious 
sentiment  is  that 

III.  All  intelligence  is  one  in  kind. 

Religion  demands  that  there  be  a  truth 
which  is  absolutely  true,  and  that  there  be  a 
goodness  which  is  universally  and  eternally 
good.  Each  system  "claims  the  possession,  and 
generally  the  exclusive  possession,  of  this  good- 
ness and  truth.  They  are  right  in  maintaining 
these  views,  for  unless  such  is  the  case,  unless 
there  is  an  absolute  truth,  cognizable  to  man, 
yet  not  transcended  by  any  divine  intelligence, 
all  possible  religion  becomes  mere  child's  play, 
and  its  professed  interpretation  of  mysteries  but 
trickery. 

The  Grecian  sophists  used  to  meet  the  de- 
monstrations of  the  mathematicians  and  philos- 
ophers by  conceding  that  they  did  indeed  set 
forth  the  truth,  so  far  as  man's  intelligence  goes, 
but  that  to  the  intelligence  of  other  beings — a  bat 
or  an  angel,  for  example — they  might  not  hold 
good  at  all ;  that  there  is  a  different  truth  for 
different  intelligences  ;  that  the  intelligence 
makes  the  truth ;  and  that  as  for  the  absolutely 
true,  true  to  every  intelligence,  there  is  no  such 
thing.  They  acknowledged  that  a  simple  syl- 

?•  The  Unseen  Universe,  p.  60. 


THE  ONENESS  OF  INTELLIGENCE.  97 

logism,  constructed  on  these  premises,  made 
their  own  assertions  partake  of  the  doubtful 
character  that  was  by  them  ascribed  to  other 
human  knowledge.  But  this  they  gracefully 
accepted  as  the  inevitable  conclusion  of  reason- 
ing. Their  position  is  defended  to-day  by  the 
advocates  of  "  positivism,"  who  maintain  the 
relativity  of  all  truth. 

But  such  a  conclusion  is  wholly  incompati- 
ble with  the  religious  mind.  It  must  assume 
that  there  are  some  common  truths,  true  in- 
finitely, and  therefore,  that  in  all  intelligence 
there  is  an  essential  unity  of  kind.  "  This  pos- 
tulation,"  says  a  close  thinker,  "  is  the  very 
foundation  and  essence  of  religion.  Destroy  it, 
and  you  destroy  the  very  possibility  of  re^ 
ligion."  l 

Clear  as  this  would  seem  to  be  to  any 
reflective  mind,  yet,  strange  to  say,  it  is  to- 
day the  current  fashion  for  religious  teachers 
to  deny  it.  Scared  by  a  phantasm  of  their 
own  creation,  they  have  deserted  the  only  posi- 
tion in  which  it  is  possible  to  defend  religion 
at  all.  Afraid  of  the  accusation  that  they 

1  James  Frederick  Terrier,  Lectures  oft  Greek  Philosophy,  p.  13 
(Edinburgh,  1866).  On  a  question  growing  directly  out  of  this, 
to  wit,  the  relative  character  of  good  and  evil,  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill  ex- 
presses himself  thus  :  "  My  opinion  of  this  doctrine  is,  that  it 
is  beyond  all  others  which  now  engage  speculative  minds,  the 
decisive  one  between  moral  good  and  evil  for  the  Christian 
world."  Examination  of  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  p.  90. 

7 


98  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

make  God  like  man,  they  have  removed  Him 
beyond  the  pale  of  all  intelligence,  and  logkal- 
ly,  therefore,  annihilated  every  conception  of 
Him. 

Teachers  and  preachers  do  not  tire  of  telling 
their  followers  that  God  is  incomprehensible  ; 
that  his  ways  are  past  finding  out ;  that  he  is 
the  Unconditioned,  the  Infinite,  the  Unknow- 
able. They  really  mean  that  he  is  another  or- 
der of  intelligence,  which,  to  quote  a  famous 
comparison  of  Spinoza,  has  the  same  name  as 
ours,  but  is  no  more  one  with  it  than  the  dog  is 
one  with  his  namesake,  the  dog-star ! 

They  are  eagerly  seconded  in  this  position 
by  a  school  of  writers  who  distinctly  see  where 
such  a  doctrine  leads,  and  who  do  not  hesitate 
to  carry  it  home.  Mr.  Mill  is  right  in  his  scorn 
for  those  who  "  erect  the  incurable  limitations  of 
the  human  conceptive  faculty  into  laws  of  the 
outward  universe,"  if  there  are  such  limitations. 
And  Mr.  Spencer  is  justified  in  condemning 
"  the  transcendent  audacity  which  passes  current 
as  piety,"  if  his  definition  of  the  underlying 
verity  of  religion  is  admitted — that  it  is  "  the 
consciousness  of  an  inscrutable  power  which, 
in  its  nature,  transcends  intuition,  and  is  beyond 
imagination."1  They  are  but  following  the 
orthodox  Sir  "William  Hamilton,  who  says : 
66  Creation  must  be  thought  as  the  incomprehen- 

i  First  Principles,  pp.  108,  127. 


A  WISE  MASTER.  99 

sible  evolution  of  power  into  energy."1  We 
are  to  think  that  which  by  the  terms  of  the 
proposition  is  unthinkable  !  A  most  wise  mas- 
ter ! 

Let  it  be  noted  that  the  expressions  such  as 
inscrutable,  incomprehensible,  unknowable,  etc., 
which  such  writers  use,  are  avowedly  not  limited 
to  man's  intelligence  in  its  present  state  of  cul- 
tivation, but  are  applied  to  his  kind  of  intelli- 
gence, no  matter  how  far  trained.  They  mean 
that  the  inscrutable,  etc.,  is  not  merely  not 
at  firesent  open  to  man's  observation — that  were 
a  truism — but  that  it  cannot  be  subsumed  un- 
der the  laws  of  his  reasoning  powers.  In  other 
words,  they  deny  that  all  intelligence  is  one  in 
kind.  Some  accept  this  fully,  and  concede  that 
what  are  called  the  laws  of  order,  as  shown  by 
science,  are  only  matters  of  experience,  true 
here  and  now,  not  necessarily  and  absolutely 
true. 

This  is  a  consistent  inference,  and  applies, 
of  course,  with  equal  force  to  all  moral  laws 
and  religious  dogmas. 

The  arguments  brought  against  such  opinions 
have  been  various.  The  old  reply  to  the  sophists 
has  been  dressed  in  modern  garb,  and  it  has  been 
repeatedly  put  that  if  no  statement  is  really 
true,  then  this  one,  to  wit  "  no  statement  is 
really  true,"  also  is  not  true  ;  and  if  that  is  the 

i  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,  Vol.  I.,  p.  690. 


100  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

case,  then  there  are  statements  which  really  are 
true.  The  theory  of  evolution  as  a  dogma  has 
been  attacked  by  its  own  maxims  ;  in  asserting 
that  all  knowledge  is  imperfect,  it  calls  its  own 
verity  into  question.  If  all  truth  is  relative, 
then  this  at  least  is  absolutely  true. 

It  has  also  been  noted  that  all  such  words  as 
incomprehensible,  unconditioned,  infinite,  un- 
knowable, are  in  their  nature  privatives,  they 
are  not  a  thought  but  are  only  one  element  of  a 
thought.  As  has  been  shown  in  the  first  chapter, 
every  thought  is  made  up  of  a  positive  and  a 
privative,  and  it  is  absurd  and  unnatural  to  sepa- 
rate the  one  from  the  other.  The  concept  man, 
regarded  as  a  division  of  the  higher  concept  ani- 
mal, is  made  up  of  man  and  not-man.  In  so  far 
as  other  animals  are  included  under  the  term 
"  not-man  "  they  do  not  come  into  intelligent 
cognition  ;  but  that  does  not  mean  that  they 
cannot  do  so.  So  "  the  unconditioned  "  is  really 
a  part  of  the  thought  of  "  the  conditioned,"  the 
"  unknowable  "  a  part  of  4\Q  "  knowable,"  the 
"  infinite  "  a  part  of  the  thought  of  the  "  finite." 
Under  material  images  these  privatives,  as  such, 
cannot  be  expressed  ;  but  in  pure  thought  which 
deals  with  symbols  and  types  alone,  they  can  be. 

But  if  the  abstract  laws  of  thought  them- 
selves are  confined  in  the  limits  of  one  kind  of 
intelligence,  then  we  cannot  take  an  appeal 
to  them  to  attack  this  sophism.  Therefore 


THE  LAWS  OF  THOUGHT.  101 

on  maintaining  their  integrity  the  discussion 
must  finally  rest.  This  has  been  fully  recognized 
by  thinkers,  one  of  whom  has  not  long  since 
earnestly  called  attention  to  "  the  urgent  neces- 
sity of  fathoming  the  psychical  mechanism  on 
which  rests  all  our  intellectual  life."  l 

In  this  endeavor  the  attempt  has  been  made 
to  show  that  the  logical  laws  are  derived  in 
accordance  with  the  general  theory  of  evolution 
from  the  natural  or  material  laws  of  thinking. 
These,  as  I  have  previously  remarked,  are  those 
of  the  association  of  ideas,  and  come  under  the 
general  heads  of  contiguity  and  similarity.  Such 
combinations  are  independent  of  the  aim  of  the 
logical  laws,  which  is  correct  thinking.  A  German 
writer,  Dr.  Windelband,  has  therefore  argued 
that  as  experience,  strengthened  by  hereditary 
transmission,  continued  to  show  that  the  particu- 
lar combinations  which  are  in  accord  with  what 
we  call  the  laws  of  thought  furnished  the  best, 
that  is,  the  most  useful  results,  they  were  adopted 
in  preference  to  others  and  finally  assumed  as 
the  criteria  of  truth. 

Of  course  it  follows  from  this  that  as  these 
laws  are  merely  the  outcome  of  human  experience 
they  can  have  no  validity  outside  of  it.  Conse- 
quently, adds  the  writer  I  have  quoted,  just  as 
the  study  of  optics  teaches  us  that  the  human 
eye  yields  a  very  different  picture  of  the  exter- 

1  Professor  Stein  thai  in  the  Zeitschrift  fur  Volkerpsychologie. 


102  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

nal  world  from  that  given  by  the  eye  of  a  fly, 
for  instance,  and  as  each  of  them  is  equally  far 
from  the  reality,  so  the  truth  which  our  intel- 
ligence enables  us  to  reach  is  not  less  remote 
from  that  which  is  the  absolutely  true.  He  con- 
siders that  this  is  proven  by  the  very  nature 
of  the  "  law  of  contradiction"  itself,  which  must 
be  inconsistent  with  the  character  of  absolute 
thought.  For  in  the  latter,  positive  truth  only 
can  exist,  therefore  no  negation,  and  no  law 
about  the  relation  of  affirmative  to  negative.1 

The  latter  criticism  assumes  that  negation  is  of 
the  nature  of  error,  a  mistake  drawn  from  the  use 
of  the  negative  in  applied  logic.  For  in  formal 
logic,  whether  as  quantity  or  quality,  that  is,  in 
pure  mathematics  or  abstract  thought,  the  reason- 
ing is  just  as  correct  when  negatives  are  employ- 
ed as  when  positives,  as  I  have  remarked  before. 
The  other  criticism  is  more  important,  for  if  we 
can  reach  the  conclusion  that  the  real  laws  of  the 
universe  are  other  than  as  we  understand  them, 
then  our  intelligence  is  not  of  a  kind  to  repre- 
sent them. 

Such  an  opinion  can  be  refuted  directly.  The 
laws  which  we  profess  to  know  are  as  operative 
in  the  remotest  nebulae  as  in  the  planet  we  in- 
habit. It  is  altogether  likely  that  countless 

1  Dr.  W.  Windelband,  Die  Erkenntnissiehre  unter  dem  voelker- 
psychologischem  Gesiclitspunkte,  in  the  Zeitschrift  fur  Volkerpsy- 
chologie,  1874,  Ed.  VIII.  S.  165  sqq. 


REASON  UBIQUITOUS.  103 

forms  of  intelligent  beings  inhabit  the  starry 
wastes,  receiving  through  sensory  apparatus 
widely  different  from  ours  very  diverse  impres- 
sions of  the  external  world.  All  this  we  know,  but 
we  also  know  that  if  those  beings  have  defined 
the  laws  which  underlie  phenomena,  they  have 
found  them  to  be  the  same  that  we  have  ;  for  were 
they  in  the  least  different,  in  principle  or  applica- 
tion, they  could  not  furnish  the  means,  as  those  we 
know  do,  of  predicting  the  recurrence  of  the  ce- 
lestial motions  with  unfailing  accuracy.  There- 
fore the  demonstrations  of  pure  mathematics, 
such  as  the  relation  of  an  absciss  to  an  ordinate, 
or  of  the  diameter  to  the  circumference,  must  be 
universally  true ;  and  hence  the  logical  laws 
which  are  the  ultimate  criteria  of  these  truths 
must  also  be  true  to  every  intelligence,  real  or 
possible.1 

Another  and  forcible  reply  to  these  objections 
is  that  the  laws  which  our  intelligence  has  reached 
and  recognizes  as  universally  true  are  not  only  not 
derived  from  experience,  but  are  in  direct  oppo- 
sition to  and  are  constantly  contradicted  by  it. 
Neither  sense  nor  imagination  has  ever  portrayed 
a  perfect  circle  in  which  the  diameter  bore  to  the 
circumference  the  exact  proportion  which  we 
know  it  does  bear.  The  very  fact  that  we  have 

1 1  would  ask  -the  reader  willing  to  pursue  this  reasoning 
further,  to  peruse  the  charming  essay  of  Oersted,  entitled  Das 
ganze  Dasein  Ein  Vernunftreich. 


104  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

learned  that  our  senses  are  wholly  untrustworthy, 
and  that  experience  is  always  fallacious,  shows 
that  we  have  tests  of  truth  depending  on  some 
other  faculty.  "  Each  series  of  connected  facts  in 
nature  furnishes  the  intimation  of  an  order  more 
exact  than  that  which  it  directly  manifests."1 

But,  it  has  been  urged,  granted  that  we  have 
reached  something  like  positive  knowledge  of 
those  laws  which  are  the  order  of  the  manifesta- 
tion of  phenomena,  the  real  Inscrutable,  the 
mysterious  Unknowable,  escapes  us  still ;  this  is 
the  nature  of  phenomenal  manifestation,  "  the 
secret  of  the  Power  manifested  in  Existence."2 
At  this  point  the  physicist  trips  and  falls ;  and 
here,  too,  the  metaphysician  stumbles. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  our  aptitude  to  be 
frightened  by  a  chimera,  and  deceived  by  such 
words  as  "nature"  and  "cause."  Laws  and 
rules,  by  which  we  express  Order,  are  restrictive 
only  in  a  condition  of  intelligence  short  of  com- 

1  Geo.  Boole,  An  Investigation  of  the  Laws  of  Thought,  p.  407. 

2  Herbert   Spencer,    First    Principles,  p.    112.       Spinoza's 
famous   proposition,  previously  quoted,  Unaquceque  res    quan- 
tum in  se  est.  in  suo  esse  perseverare  conatur,  (Ethices,  Pars  III., 
Prop.  F/.,)  expresses  also  the  ultimate  of  modern  investigation. 
A  recent  critic  considers  it  is  a  fallacy  because  the  conatus 
"  surreptitiously  implies  a  sense  of  effort  or  struggle  for  exist- 
ence," whereas  the  logical  concept  of  a  res  docs  not  involve 
effort  (S.  N.  Hodgson,  The  Theory  of  Practice,  vol.  I.  pp.  1C4-6, 
London,  1870.)     The  answer  is  that  identity  implies  continu- 
ance.    In  organic  life  we  have  the  fact  of  nutrition,  a  function 
whose  duty  is  to  supply  waste,  and  hence  offer  direct  opposition 
to  perturbing  forces. 


TR UE  FREEDOM  ABOVE  LA  W.  105 

pleteness,  only  therefore  in  that  province  of 
thought  which  concerns  itself  with  material  facts. 
The  musician  is  not  fettered  by  the  laws  of 
harmony,  but  only  by  those  of  discord.  The 
truly  virtuous  man,  remarks  Aristotle,  never  has 
occasion  to  practise  self-denial.  Hence,  mathe- 
matically, "  the  theory  of  the  intellectual  action  in- 
volves the  recognition  of  a  sphere  of  thought  from 
which  all  limits  are  withdrawn." l  True  freedom, 
real  being,  is  only  possible  when  law  as  such  is 
inexistent.  Only  the  lawless  makes  the  law. 
When  the  idea  of  the  laws  of  order  thus  disap- 
pears in  that  of  free  function  consistent  with  per- 
fect order,  when,  as  Kant  expresses  it,  we  ascend 
from  the  contemplation  of  things  acting  accord- 
ing to  law,  to  action  according  to  the  representa- 
tion of  law,2  we  can,  without  audacity,  believe 
that  we  have  penetrated  the  secret  of  existence, 
that  we  have  reached  the  limits  of  explanation 
and  found  one  wholly  satisfying  the  highest  rea- 
son. Intelligence,  not  apart  from  phenomena,  but 
parallel  with  them,  not  under  law,  but  through 
perfect  harmony  above  it,  power  one  with  being, 
the  will  which  is  "the  essence  of  reason,"  the 
emanant  cause  of  phenomena,  immanent  only  by 
the  number  of  its  relations  we  have  not  learned, 
this  is  the  satisfying  and  exhaustive  solution. 

1  Geo.  Boole,  The  Laics  of  Thought,  p.  419. 

2  Kant,  The  Metaphysic  of  Ethics,  p.  23  (Eng.  Trans.  Lon- 
don, 1809.) 


106  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

The  folly  lies  not  in  claiming  reason  as  the  abso- 
lute, but  in  assuming  that  the  absolute  is  beyond 
and  against  reason. 

There  is  nothing  new  in  this  explanation ;  and 
it  is  none  the  worse  for  being  old.  If  Anaxag- 
oras  discerned  it  dimly,  and  many  a  one  since 
him  has  spoken  of  Intelligence,  Reason,  Nous  or 
Logos  as  the  constructive  factor  of  the  creation  ; 
if  "  all  the  riper  religions  of  the  Orient  assumed 
as  their  fundamental  principle  that  unless  the 
Highest  penetrates  all  parts  of  the  Universe, 
and  itself  conditions  whatever  is  conditioned, 
no  universal  order,  no  Kosmos,  no  real  exist- 
ence is  thinkable ; " 1  such  inadequate  expressions 
should  never  obscure  the  truth  that  reason  in 
its  loftiest  flights  descries  nothing  nobler  than 
itself. 

The  relative,  as  its  name  implies,  for  ever 
presupposes  and  points  to  the  absolute,  the  latter 
an  Intelligence  also,  not  one  that  renders  ours 
futile  and  fallacious,  but  one  that  imparts  to  ours 
the  capacity  we  possess  of  reaching  eternal  and 
ubiquitous  truth.  The  severest  mathematical  rea- 
soning forces  us  to  this  conclusion,  and  we  can 
dispense  with  speculation  about  it. 

Only  on  the  principle  which  here  receives  its 
proof,  that  man  has  something  in  him  of  God, 
that  the  norm  of  the  true  holds  good  throughout, 

i  Creuzer,  Symbolik   und  Mythologie  der  alien  Voelker,  Bd. 
I.  s.  29i. 


FAITH  vs.  REASON.  107 

can  he  know  or  care  anything  about  divinity. 
"  It  takes  a  god  to  discern  a  god/'  profoundly 
wrote  Novalis. 

When  a  religion  teaches  what  reason  disclaims, 
not  through  lack  of  testimony  but  through  a 
denial  of  the  rights  of  reason,  then  that  religion 
wars  against  itself  and  will  fall.  Faith  is  not  the 
acceptance  of  what  intelligence  rejects,  but  a 
suspension  of  judgment  for  want  of  evidence. 
A  thoroughly  religious  mind  will  rejoice  when 
its  faith  is  shaken  with  doubt ;  for  the  doubt 
indicates  increased  light  rendering  perceptible 
some  possible  error  not  before  seen. 

Least  of  all  should  a  believer  in  a  divine 
revelation  deny  the  oneness  of  intelligence.  For  if 
he  is  right,  then  the  revealed  truth  he  talks  about 
is  but  relative  and  partial,  and  those  inspired 
men  who  claimed  for  it  the  sign  manual  of  the 
Absolute  were  fools,  insane  or  liars. 

If  the  various  arguments  I  have  rehearsed 
indicate  conclusively  that  in  the  laws  of  thought 
we  have  the  norms  of  absolute  truth — and  skepti- 
cism on  this  point  can  be  skepticism  and  not  be- 
lief only  by  virtue  of  the  very  law  which  it  doubts 
— some  important  corollaries  present  themselves. 

Regarding  in  the  first  place  the  nature  of 
these  laws,  we  find  them  very  different  from 
those  of  physical  necessity  —  those  which  are 
called  the  laws  of  nature.  The  latter  are  authori- 
tative, they  are  never  means  to  an  end,  they 


108  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

admit  no  exception,  they  leave  no  room  for 
error.  Not  so  with  the  laws  of  reasoning.  Man 
far  more  frequently  disregards  than  obeys  them ; 
they  leave  a  wide  field  for  fallacy.  Wherein  then 
lies  that  theoretical  necessity  which  is  the  essence 
of  law  ?  The  answer  is  that  the  laws  of  reason- 
ing are  purposive  only,  they  are  regulative,  not 
constitutive,  and  their  theoretical  necessity  lies 
in  the  end,  the  result  of  reasoning,  that  is,  in 
the  knowing,  in  the  recognition  of  truth.  They 
are  what  the  Germans  call  Ziceckyesetze.1 

But  in  mathematical  reasoning  and  in  the 
processes  of  physical  nature  the  absolute  charac- 
ter of  the  laws  which  prevail  depends  for  its 
final  necessity  on  their  consistency,  their  entire 
correspondence  with  the  laws  of  right  reasoning. 
Applied  to  them  the  purposive  character  of  the 
laws  is  not  seen,  for  their  ends  are  fulfilled.  We 
are  brought,  therefore,  to  the  momentous  con- 
clusion that  the  manifestation  of  Order,  whether 
in  material  or  mental  processes,  "  affords  a  pre- 
sumption, not  measurable  indeed  but  real,  of  the 
fulfilment  of  an  end  or  purpose ;"  *  and  this 
purpose,  one  which  has  other  objects  in  view 
than  the  continuance  of  physical  processes.  The 
history  of  mind,  from  protoplasmic  sensation 

i  See  this   distinction  between  physical  and   thought  laws 
fully  set  forth  by  Prof.  Boole  in  the  appendix  to  The  Laws  of 
Thouf/Jit,  and  by  Dr.  Windelband,  Zeitschriftfiir  VoeLkerpsycho- 
%/^Bd.  VIII.,  s.  165  sqq. 
2  Geo.  Boole,  u.  s.    p.  399. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  MIND.  109 

upward,  must  be  a  progression,  whose  end  will 
be  worth  more  than  was  its  beginning,  a  process, 
which  has  for  its  purpose  the  satisfaction  of  the 
laws  of  mind.  This  is  nothing  else  than  correct 
thinking,  the  attainment  of  truth. 

But  this  conclusion,  reached  by  a  searching 
criticism  of  the  validity  of  scientific  laws,  is  pre- 
cisely that  which  is  the  postulate  of  all  developed 
creeds.  "  The  faith  of  all  historical  religions," 
says  Bunsen,  "  starts  from  the  assumption  of  a 
universal  moral  order,  in  which  the  good  is  alone 
the  true,  and  the  true  is  the  only  good."1 

The  purposive  nature  of  the  processes  of 
thought,  as  well  as  the  manner  in  which  they 
govern  the  mind,  is  illustrated  by  the  history  of 
man.  His  actions,  whether  as  an  individual  or  as 
a  nation,  are  guided  by  ideas  not  derived  from 
the  outer  world,  for  they  do  not  correspond  to 
actual  objects,  but  from  mental  pictures  of  things 
as  he  wants  them  to  exist.  These  are  his  hopes, 
his  wishes,  his  ideals ;  they  are  the  more  potent, 
and  prompt  to  more  vigorous  action,  the  clearer 
they  are  to  his  mind.  Even  when  he  is  uncon- 
scious of  them,  they  exist  as  tendencies,  or  in- 
stincts, inherited  often  from  some  remote  ances- 
tor, perhaps  even  the  heir-loom  of  a  stage  of 

1  "  Der  Glaube  aller  gescliichtlichen  Religionen  gcht  aus 
von  dieser  Aimahme  einer  sittliclien,  in  Gott  bewusst  lebenden, 
Weltordnung,  wonacli  das  Gate  das  allein  Wahre  1st,  and  das 
AVahre  das  allein  Gate."  Gott  in  der  Geschichte,  Bd.  I.  s.  xl. 
'Leipzig,  1857. 


110  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

lower  life,  for  they  occur  where  sensation  alone 
is  present,  and  are  an  important  factor  in  general 
evolution. 

It  is  usually  conceded  that  this  theory  of  or- 
ganic development  very  much  attenuates  the 
evidence  of  what  is  known  as  the  argument  from 
design  in  nature,  by  which  the  existence  of  an 
intelligent  Creator  is  sought  to  be  shown.  If  the 
distinction  between  the  formal  laws  of  math- 
ematics, which  are  those  of  nature,  and  logic, 
which  are  those  of  mind,  be  fully  understood,  no 
one  will  seek  such  an  argument  in  the  former 
but  in  the  latter  only,  for  they  alone,  as  I  have 
shown,  are  purposive,  and  they  are  wholly  so. 
The  only  God  that  nature  points  to  is  an  ad- 
amantine Fate. 

If  religion  has  indeed  the  object  which  Bun- 
sen  assigns  it,  physical  phenomena  cannot  concern 
it.  Its  votaries  should  not  look  to  change  the 
operation  of  natural  laws  by  incantations,  pray- 
ers or  miracles. 

Whenever  in  the  material  world  there  pre- 
sents itself  a  seeming  confusion,  it  is  certain  to 
turn  out  but  an  incompleteness  of  our  ob- 
servation, and  on  closer  inspection  it  resolves 
itself  into  some  higher  scheme  of  Order.  This 
is  not  so  in  the  realm  of  thought.  Wrong  think- 
ing never  can  become  right  thinking.  A  profound 
writer  has  said  :  "  One  explanation  only  of  these 
facts  can  be  given,  viz.,  that  the  distinction  be- 


NO  CONFUSION  IN  NATURE.  Ill 

tween  true  and  false,  between  correct  and  incor- 
rect, exists  in  the  processes  of  the  intellect,  but 
not  in  the  region  of  a  physical  necessity." 1  A  re- 
ligion therefore  which  claims  as  its  mission  the 
discovery  of  the  true  and  its  identification  with 
the  good, — in  other  words  the  persuading  man 
that  he  should  always  act  in  accordance  with  the 
dictates  of  right  reasoning — should  be  addressed 
primarily  to  the  intellect. 

As  man  can  attain  to  certain  truths  which 
are  without  any  mixture  of  fallacy,  which  when 
once  he  comprehends  them  he  can  never  any 
more  doubt,  and  which  though  thus  absolute  do 
not  fetter  his  intellect  but  first  give  it  the  use 
of  all  its  powers  to  the  extent  of  those  truths ; 
so  he  can  conceive  of  an  Intelligence  in  which 
all  truth  is  thus  without  taint  of  error.  Not 
only  is  such  an  Intelligence  conceivable,  it  is 
necessary  to  conceive  it,  in  order  to  complete  the 
scientific  induction  of  "  a  sphere  of  thought  from 
which  all  limits  are  withdrawn,"  forced  upon  us 
by  the  demonstrations  of  the  exact  sciences.2 

Thus  do  we  reach  the  foundation  for  the  faith 
in  a  moral  government  of  the  world,  which  it  has 
been  the  uniform  characteristic  of  religions  to 

1  Geo  Boole,  Laws  of  Thought,  p.  410. 

2  The  latest  researches  in  natural  science  confirm  the  expres- 
sions of  W.  von  Humboldt:  "Das  Streben  der  Natur  ist  auf 
etwas  Uubeschranktes  gerichtet."     "  DieNatur  mit  endlichen 
Mitteln  unendliche  Zwecke  verfolgt."      Ueber  den  Geschlechts- 


unterschied,    etc. 


112  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

assert ;  but  a  government,  as  thus  analytically 
reached,  not  easily  corresponding  with  that  which 
popular  religion  speaks  of.  Such  feeble  senti- 
ments as  mercy,  benevolence  and  effusive  love, 
scarcely  find  place  in  this  conception  of  the 
source  of  universal  order.  In  this  cosmical  dust- 
cloud  w^e  inhabit,  whose  each  speck  is  a  sun, 
man's  destiny  plays  a  microscopic  part.  The 
vexed  question  whether  ours  is  the  best  possible 
or  the  worst  possible  world,  drops  into  startling 
insignificance.  Religion  has  taught  the  abnega- 
tion of  self;  science  is  first  to  teach  the  humilia- 
tion of  the  race.  Not  for  man's  behoof  were 
created  the  greater  and  the  lesser  lights,  not  for 
his  deeds  will  the  sun  grow  dark  or  the  stars  fall, 
not  with  any  reference  to  his  pains  or  pleasure 
was  this  universe  spread  upon  the  night.  That 
Intelligence  which  pursues  its  own  ends  in  this 
All,  which  sees  from  first  to  last  the  chain  of 
causes  which  mould  human  action,  measures  not 
its  purposes  by  man's  halting  sensations.  Such 
an  Intelligence  is  fitly  described  by  the  philos- 
opher-poet as  one, 

"  Wo  die  Gerechtigkeit  so  Wurzel  schlaget, 
Und  Schuld  und  Unschuld  so  erhaben  waget 
Dass  sie  vertritt  die  Stelle  aller  Giite."  l 

In  the  scheme  of  the  universe,  pain  and 
pleasure,  truth  and  error,  has  each  its  fitness, 
and  no  single  thought  or  act  can  be  judged 

1  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt,    Sonnette,  "  Hochste   Gerechtig- 
keit." 


HIGHEST  JUSTICE.  113 

apart  from  all  others  that  ever  have  been  and 
ever  shall  be. 

Such  was  the  power  that  was  contemplated 
by  the  Hebrew  prophet,  one  from  which  all 
evil  things  and  all  good  things  come,  and  who 
disposes  them  all  to  the  fulfilment  of  a  final  pur- 
pose: 

"  I  am  the  Lord  and  there  is  none  else.  I  form  the  light 
and  create  darkness  ;  I  make  peace  and  create  evil." 

"  I  am  God  and  there  is  none  like  me,  declaring  the  end 
from  the  beginning,  and  from  ancient  times  the  things  which 
are  not  yet  done."  1 

In  a  similar  strain  the  ancient  Aryan  sang  : — 

"  This  do  I  ask  thee,  tell  me,  O  Ahura  ! 

Who  is  he,  working  good,  made  the  light  and  also  darkness  ? 
"Who  is  he,  working  good,  made  the  sleep  as  well  as  waking? 
Who  the  night,  as  well  as  noon  and  the  morning?  " 

And  the  reply  came  : 

"  Know  also  this,  O  pure  Zarathustra :  through  my  wisdom, 
through  which  was  the  beginning  of  the  world,  so  also  its  end 
shall  be."  2 

Or  as  the  Arabian  apostle  wrote,  inspired  by 
the  same  idea  : — 

"Praise  the  name  of  thy  Lord,  the  Most  High, 
Who  hath  created  and  balanced  all  things, 
Who  hath  fixed  their  destinies  and  guideth  them." 

"  The  Revelation  of  this  book  is  from  the  Mighty,  the  Wise. 
We  have  not  created  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  and  all  that  is 
between  them  otherwise  than  with  a  purpose  and  for  a  settled 
term."  3 

1  Isaiah,  xlv.  7  ;  xlvi.  10. 

2  Khordah — avesta,  Ormazd — Yasht,  38,  and  Ya$na,  42. 

3  The  Koran,  Suras  Ixxxvii.,  xlvi. 

8 


THE  PRAYER  AND  ITS  ANSWER. 


SUMMARY. 


Religion  starts  with  a  Prayer.  This  is  an  appeal  to  the  unknown,  and  is 
indispensable  in  religious  thought.  The  apparent  exceptions  of  Buddhism 
and  Confucianism. 

All  prayers  relate  to  the  fulfilment  of  a  wish.  At  first  its  direct  object 
is  alone  thought  of.  This  so  frequently  fails  that  the  indirect  object  rises 
into  view.  This  stated  to  be  the  increase  of  the  pleasurable  emotions.  The 
inadequacy  of  this  statement. 

The  answers  to  prayer.  As  a  form  of  Expectant  Attention,  it  exerts 
much  subjective  power.  Can  it  influence  external  phenomena?  It  is  possi- 
ble. Deeply  religious  minds  reject  both  these  answers,  however.  They 
claim  the  objective  answer  to  be  Inspiration.  All  religions  unite  in  this  claim. 

Inspirations  have  been  contradictory.  That  is  genuine  which  teaches 
truths  which  cannot  be  doubted  concerning  duty  and  deity.  A  certain 
mental  condition  favors  the  attainment  of  such  truths.  This  simulated  in 
religious  cntheasm.  Examples.  It  is  allied  to  the  most  intense  intellectual 
action,  but  its  steps  remain  unknown. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    PRAYER   AND    ITS    ANSWER. 

THE  foregoing  analysis  of  the  religious  senti- 
ment results  in  finding  it,  even  in  its  simplest 
forms,  a  product  of  complicated  reasoning 
forced  into  action  by  some  of  the  strongest 
emotions,  and  maintaining  its  position  inde- 
feasibly  through  the  limitations  of  the  intellect. 
This  it  does,  however,  with  a  certain  nobleness, 
for  while  it  wraps  the  unknown  in  sacred 
mystery,  it  proclaims  man  one  in  nature  with 
the  Highest,  by  birthright  a  son  of  the  gods,  of 
an  intelligence  akin  to  theirs,  and  less  than  they 
only  in  degree.  Through  thus  presenting  at 
once  his  strength  and  his  feebleness,  his  grand- 
eur and  his  degradation,  religion  goes  beyond 
philosophy  or  utility  in  suggesting  motives  for 
exertion,  stimuli  to  labor.  This  phase  of  it 
will  now  occupy  us. 

The  Religious  Sentiment  manifests  itself  in 
thought,  in  word  and  in  act  through  the  respect- 
ive media  of  the  Prayer,  the  Myth  and  the  Cult. 
The  first  embraces  the  personal  relations  of  the 


118  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

individual  to  the  object  of  his  worship,  the 
second  expresses  the  opinions  current  in  a  com- 
munity about  the  nature  and  actions  of  that 
object,  the  last  includes  the  symbols  and  cere- 
monies under  and  by  which  it  is  represented  and 
propitiated. 

The  first  has  the  logical  priority.  Man 
cares  nothing  for  God  —  can  care  nothing  for 
him  practically — except  as  an  aid  to  the  fulfil- 
ment of  his  desires,  the  satisfaction  of  his  wants, 
as  the  "  ground  of  his  hopes."  The  root  of  the 
religious  sentiment,  I  have  said,  is  "  a  wish 
whose  fruition  depends  upon  unknown  power." 
An  appeal  for  aid  to  this  unknown  power,  is  the 
first  form  of  prayer  in  its  religious  sense.  It  is 
not  merely  "  the  soul's  sincere  desire."  This 
may  well  be  and  well  directed,  and  yet  not 
religious,  as  the  devotion  of  the  mathematician  to 
the  solution  of  an  important  problem.  "With 
the  desire  must  be  the  earnest  appeal  to  the  un- 
known. A  theological  dictionary  I  have  at  hand 
almost  correctly  defines  it  as  "  a  petition  for 
spiritual  or  physical  benefits  which  [we  believe] 
we  cannot  obtain  without  divine  co-operation." 
The  words  in  brackets  must  be  inserted  to  com- 
plete, the  definition. 

It  need  not  be  expressed  in  language.  Rous- 
seau, in  his  Confessions,  tells  of  a  bishop  who,  in 
visiting  his  diocese,  came  across  an  old  woman 
who  was  troubled  because  she  could  frame  no 


SILENT  PRA  YER.  119 

prayer  in  words,  but  only  cry,  "  Oh  !  "  "  Good 
mother,"  said  the  wise  bishop,  "  Pray  always  so. 
Your  prayers  are  better  than  ours." 

A  petition  for  assistance  is,  as  I  have  said,  one 
of  its  first  forms ;  but  not  its  only  one.  The 
assistance  asked  in  simple  prayers  is  often 
nothing  more  than  the  neutrality  of  the  gods, 
their  non-interference  ;  "no  preventing  Prov- 
idence," as  the  expression  is  in  our  popular 
religion.  Prayers  of  fear  are  of  this  kind : 

"  And  they  say,  God  be  merciful, 
Who  ne'er  said,  God  be  praised." 

Some  of  the  Egyptian  formulae  even  threaten 
the  gods  if  they  prevent  success.2  The  wish 
accomplished,  the  prayer  may  be  one  of  grati- 
tude, often  enough  of  that  kind  described  by  La 
Rochefoucauld,  of  which  a  prominent  element  is 
"  a  lively  sense  of  possible  favors  to  come."3 

Or  again,  self-abasement  being  so  natural  a 
form  of  flattery  that  to  call  ourselves  "  obedient 

1  The  "silent  worship  "  of  the  Quakers  is  defended  by  the 
writers  of  that  sect,  on  the  ground  that  prayer  is  "  often  very  im- 
perfectly performed  and  sometimes  materially  interrupted  by 
the  use  of  words."   Joseph  John  Gurney,  The  DistinguishingViews 
and  Practice  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  p.  300.     (London,  1834.) 

2  Creuzer,  Symbolik  und  Mythologie  der  alien  Volker,  Bd.  I. ,  s. 
162. 

8  The  loarned  Bishop  Butler,  author  of  the  Analogy  of 
Relig'on,  justly  gives  prominence  to  u  our  expectation  of  future 
benefits,"  as  a  reason  for  gratitude  to  God.  Sermons,  p.  155. 
(London,  1841.) 


120  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

and  humble  servants "  of  others,  has  passed 
into  one  of  the  commonest  forms  of  address, 
many  prayers  are  made  up  of  similar  expressions 
of  humility  and  contrition,  the  votary  calling 
himself  a  "  miserable  sinner  "  and  a  "  vile  worm," 
and  on  the  other  hand  magnifying  his  Lord  as 
greater  than  all  other  gods,  mighty  and  helpful 
to  those  who  assiduously  worship  him. 

In  some  form  or  other,  as  of  petition,  grati- 
tude or  contrition,  uttered  in  words  or  confined 
to  the  aspirations  of  the  soul,  prayer  is  a  ne- 
cessary factor  in  the  religious  life.  It  always 
has  been,  and  it  must  be  present. 

The  exceptions  which  may  be  taken  to  this 
in  religious  systems  are  chiefly  two,  those  sup- 
posed to  have  been  founded  by  Buddha  Sakya- 
muni  and  Confucius. 

It  is  undoubtedly  correct  that  Buddha  dis- 
couraged prayer.  He  permitted  it  at  best  in 
the  inferior  grades  of  discipleship.  For  himself, 
and  all  who  reached  his  stage  of  culture,  he  pro- 
nounced it  futile. 

But  Buddha  did  not  set  out  to  teach  a 
religion,  but  rather  the  inutility  of  all  creeds. 
He  struck  shrewdly  at  the  root  of  them  by  placing 
the  highest  condition  of  man  in  the  total  extin- 
guishment of  desire.  He  bound  the  gods  in 
fetters  by  establishing  a  theory  of  causal  con- 
nection (the  twelve  Nidana)  which  does  away 
with  the  necessity  of  ruling  powers.  He  then 


BUDDHA'S  TEACHING.  121 

swept  both  matter  and  spirit  into  unreality 
by  establishing  the  canon  of  ignorance,  that  the 
highest  knowledge  is  to  know  that  nothing  is ; 
that  there  is  neither  being  nor  not-being,  nor 
yet  the  becoming.  After  this  wholesale  icono- 
clasm  the  only  possible  object  in  life  for  the 
sage  is  the  negative  one  of  avoiding  pain,  which 
though  as  unreal  as  anything  else,  interferes 
with  his  meditations  on  its  unreality.  To  this 
negative  end  the  only  aid  he  can  expect  is  from 
other  sages  who  have  gone  farther  in  self-culti- 
vation. Self,  therefore,  is  the  first,  the  collec- 
tive body  of  sages  is  the  second,  and  the  written 
instruction  of  Buddha  is  the  third  ;  and  these 
three  are  the  only  sources  to  which  the  con- 
sistent Buddhist  looks  for  aid. 

This  was  Buddha's  teaching.  But  it  is  not 
Buddhism  as  professed  by  the  hundreds  of  mil- 
lions in  Ceylon,  in  Thibet,  China,  Japan,  and 
Siberia,  who  claim  Sakyamuni  under  his  names 
Buddha,  the  awakened,  Tathagata,  thus  gone,  or 
gone  before,  Siddartha,  the  accomplisher  of  the 
wish,  and  threescore  and  ten  others  of  like  pur- 
port, as  their  inspired  teacher.  Millions  of 
saints,  holy  men,  Buddhas,  they  believe,  are 
ready  to  aid  in  every  way  the  true  believer,  and 
incessant,  constant  prayer  is,  they  maintain,  the 
one  efficient  means  to  insure  this  aid.  Repeti- 
tion, dinning  the  divinities  and  wearying  them 
into  answering,  is  their  theory.  Therefore 


122  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

they  will  repeat  a  short  formula  of  four  words 
(om  mani  padme  hum — Om!  the  jewel  in  the 
lotus,  amen)  thousands  of  times  a  day ;  or,  as 
they  correctly  think  it  not  a  whit  more  mechan- 
ical, they  write  it  a  million  times  on  strips  of 
paper,  fasten  it  around  a  cylinder,  attach  this  to 
a  water  or  a  wind-wheel,  and  thus  sleeping  or 
waking,  at  home  or  abroad,  keep  up  a  steady 
fire  of  prayer  at  the  gods,  which  finally,  they 
sanguinely  hope,  will  bring  them  to  submission. 
No  sect  has  such  entire  confidence  in  the 
power  of  prayer  as  the  Buddhists.  The  most 
pious  •Mahometan  or  Christian  does  not  approach 
theTr'faitli.  Mter  all  is  said  and  done,  the  latter 
has  room  to  doubt  the  efficacy  of  his  prayer. 
It  may  be  refused.  Not  so  the  Buddhists.  They 
have  a  syllogism  which  covers  the  case  com- 
pletely, as  follows : — 

All  things  are  in  the  power  of  the  gods. 

The  gods  are  in  the  ]  ower  of  prayer. 

Prayer  is  at  the  will  of  the  saint. 

Therefore  all  things  are  in  the  power  of  the  saint. 

The  only  reason  that  any  prayer  fails  is  that 
it  is  not  repeated  often  enough — a  statement 
difficult  to  refute. 

The  case  with  Confucius  was  different.1      No 

i 

speculative   dreamer,  but  a  practical  man,  bent 

1  The  expressions  of  Confucius'  religious  views  may  bs 
found  in  The  Doctrine  of  tlie  Mean,  chaps,  xiii.,  xvi.,  tlie  Ana- 
lects, i. ,  99, 100,  vii.,  and  in  a  few  other  passages  of  the  canonical 
books. 


CONFUCIUS'  TEACHING.  123 

on  improving  his  fellows  by  teaching  them  self- 
reliance,  industry,  honesty,  good  feeling  and  the 
attainment  of  material  comfort,  he  did  not  see 
in  the  religious  systems  and  doctrines  of  his  time 
any  assistance  to  these  ends.  Therefore,  like 
Socrates  and  many  other  men  of  ancient  and 
modern  times,  without  actually  condemning  the 
faiths  around  him,  or  absolutely  neglecting  some 
external  respect  to  their  usages,  he  taught  his 
followers  to  turn  away  from  religious  topics  and 
occupy  themselves  with  subjects  of  immediate 
utility.  For  questions  of  duty,  man,  he  taught, 
has  a  sufficient  guide  within  himself.  "  What 
you  do  not  like,"  he  said,  "when  done  to  your- 
self, do  not  to  others."  The  wishes,  he  adds, 
should  be  limited  to  the  attainable ;  thus  their 
disappointment  can  be  avoided  by  a  just  estimate 
of  one's  own  powers.  He  used  to  compare  a 
wise  man  to  an  archer :  "  When  the  archer 
misses  the  target,  he  seeks  for  the  cause  of  his 
failure  within  himself."  He  did  not  like  to  talk 
about  spiritual  beings.  When  asked  whether 
the  dead  had  knowledge,  he  replied  :  "  There  is 
no  present  urgency  about  the  matter.  If  they 
have,  you  will  know  it  for  yourself  in  time." 
He  did  not  deny  the  existence  of  unseen  pow- 
ers ;  on  the  contrary,  he  said  :  "  The  kwei  shin 
(the  most  general  term  for  supernatural  beings) 
enter  into  all  things,  and  there  is  nothing  with- 
out them ;  "  but  he  added,  "  We  look  for  them 


121  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

and  do  not  see  them  ;  we  listen,  but  do  not  hear 
them."  In  speaking  of  deity,  he  dropped  the 
personal  syllable  (te)  and  only  spoke  of  heaven, 
in  the  indefinite  sense.  Such  was  this  extraor- 
dinary man.  The  utilitarian  theory,  what  we 
call  the  common  sense  view  of  life,  was  never 
better  taught.  But  his  doctrine  is  not  a  re- 
ligion. His  followers  erect  temples,  and  from 
filial  respect  pay  the  usual  honors  to  their  an- 
cestors, as  Confucius  himself  did.  But  they 
ignore  religious  observances,  strictly  so-callec1. 

These  examples,  therefore,  do  not  at  all  con- 
flict with  the  general  statement  that  no  religion 
can  exist  without  prayer.  On  the  contrary,  it 
is  the  native  expression  of  the  religious  senti- 
ment, that  to  which  we  must  look  for  its  most 
hidden  meaning.  The  thoughtful  Novalis,  whose 
meditations  are  so  rich  in  reflections  on  the  re- 
ligious nature  of  man,  well  said :  "  Prayer  is  to 
religion  what  thought  is  to  philosophy.  To 
pray  is  to  make  religion.  The  religious  sense 
prays  with  like  necessity  that  the  reason  thinks." 

Whatever  the  form  of  the  prayer,  it  has 
direct  or  indirect  relation  to  the  accomplishment 
of  a  wish.  David  prays  to  the  Lord  as  the  one 
who  "  satisfies  the  desire  of  every  living  thing," 
AN  ho  "  will  fulfil  the  desire  of  them  that  fear 
him,"  and  it  is  with  the  like  faith  that  the  heart 
of  every  votary  is  stirred  when  he  approaches  in 
prayer  the  divinity  he  adores. 


THE  ARYAN  PRAYER.  125 

Widely  various  are  the  things  wished  for. 
Their  character  is  the  test  of  religions.  In  prim- 
itive faiths  and  in  uncultivated  minds,  prayers 
are  confined  to  the  nearest  material  advantages ; 
they  are  directed  to  the  attainment  of  food,  of 
victory  in  combat,  of  safety  in  danger,  of  per- 
sonal prosperity.  They  may  all  be  summed  up 
in  a  line  of  one  which  occurs  in  the  Eig  V eda : 
"  0  Lord  Varuna !  Grant  that  we  may  prosper 
in  getting  and  keeping  /" 

Beyond  this  point  of  "  getting  and  keeping," 
few  primitive  prayers  take  us.  Those  of  the 
American  Indians,  as  I  have  elsewhere  shown,  re- 
mained in  this  stage  among  the  savage  tribes,  and 
rose  above  it  only  in  the  civilized  states  of 
Mexico  and  Peru.  Prayers  for  health,  for 
plenteous  harvests,  for  safe  voyages  and  the  like 
are  of  this  nature,  though  from  their  familiarity 
to  us  they  seem  less  crude  than  the  simple- 
hearted  petition  of  the  old  Aryan,  which  I  have 
quoted.  They  mean  the  same. 

The  more  thoughtful  votaries  of  the  higher 
forms  of  religion  have,  however,  frequently 
drawn  the  distinction  between  the  direct  and 
indirect  fulfilment  of  the  wish.  An  abundant 
harvest,  restoration  to  health,  or  a  victory  in 
battle  is  the  object  of  our  hopes,  not  in  itself, 
but  for  its  results  upon  ourselves.  These,  in 
their  final  expression,  can  mean  nothing  else  than 
agreeable  sensations  and  pleasurable  emotions. 


120  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

These,  therefore,  are  the  real  though  indirect 
objects  of  such  prayers;  often  unconsciously  so, 
because  the  ordinary  devotee  has  little  capacity 
and  less  inclination  to  analyze  the  nature  of  his 
religious  feelings. 

A  recent  writer,  Mr.  Hodgson,  has  said : 
"  The  real  answer  to  prayer  is  the  increase  of 
the  joyful  emotions,  the  decrease  of  the  painful 
ones."1  It  would  seem  a  simpler  plan  to  make 
this  directly  the  purport  of  our  petitions  ;  but 
to  the  modern  mind  this  naked  simplicity  would 
be  distasteful. 

Nor  is  the  ordinary  supplicant  willing  to  look 
so  far.  The  direct,  not  the  indirect  object  of  the 
wish,  is  what  he  wants.  The  lazzarone  of  Naples 
prays  to  his  patron  saint  to  favor  his  choice  of  a 
lottery  ticket ;  if  it  turn  out  an  unlucky  number 
he  will  take  the  little  leaden  image  of  the  saint 
from  his  pocket,  revile  it,  spit  on  it,  and  trample 
it  in  the  mud.  Another  man,  when  his  prayer 
for  success  is  not  followed  by  victory,  sends  gifts 
to  the  church,  flogs  himself  in  public  and  fasts. 
Xenophon  gives  us  in  his  Economics  the  prayer 
of  a  pious  Athenian  of  his  time,  in  the  person  of 
Ischomachus.  "  I  seek  to  obtain,"  says  the  latter, 
"  from  the  gods  by  just  prayers,  strength  and 
health,  the  respect  of  the  community,  the  love 
of  my  friends,  an  honorable  termination  to 
my  combats,  and  riches,  the  fruit  of  honest  in- 

1  An  Inquiry  into  the  Theory  of  Practice,  p.  330. 


CLASSICAL  PRAYERS.  127 

das  try."  Xenophon  evidently  considered  these 
appropriate  objects  for  prayer,  and  from  the 
petitions  in  many  recent  manuals  of  devotion, 
I  should  suppose  most  Christians  of  to-day  would 
not  see  in  them  anything  inappropriate. 

In  spite  of  the  effort  that  has  been  made  by 
Professor  Creuzer1  to  show  that  the  classical 
nations  rose  to  a  higher  use  of  prayer,  one  which 
made  spiritual  growth  in  the  better  sense  of  the 
phrase  its  main  end  ;  I  think  such  instances  were 
confined  to  single  philosophers  and  poets.  They  do 
not  represent  the  prayers  of  the  average  votary. 
Then  and  now  he,  as  a  rule,  has  little  or  no  idea 
of  any  other  answer  to  his  prayer  than  the  at- 
tainment of  his  wish. 

As  such  petitions,  however,  more  frequently 
fail  than  succeed  in  their  direct  object,  and  as 
the  alternative  of  considering  them  impotent  is 
not  open  to  the  votary,  some  other  explanation 
of  their  failure  was  taught  in  very  early  day  . 
At  first,  it  was  that  the  god  was  angered,  and  re- 
fused the  petition  out  of  revenge.  Later,  the 
indirect  purpose  of  such  a  prayer  asserted  itself 

1  Symbolik  und  Mythologle  der  Alien  Volker.  Bd.  L,  ss.  165, 
sqq.  One  of  the  most  favorable  examples  (not  mentioned  by 
Creuzer)  is  the  formula  with  which  Apollonius  of  Tyana  closed 
every  prayer  and  gave  as  the  summary  of  all  :  "  Give  me,  ye 
Gods,  what  I  deserve  " — Ao^re  [JLOI  ra  oQethopeva.  The  Chris- 
tian's comment  on  this  would  be  in  the  words  of  Hamlet's  reply 
to  Polonius :  "  God's  bodkin,  man  !  use  every  man  after  his 
desert  and  who  should  'scape  whipping  ?  " 


128  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

more  clearly,  and  aided  by  a  nobler  conception 
of  Divinity,  suggested  that  the  refusal  of  the 
lower  is  a  preparation  for  a  higher  reward. 
Children,  in  well-ordered  households,  are  fre- 
quently refused  by  parents  who  love  them  well ; 
this  present  analogy  was  early  seized  to  explain 
the  failure  of  prayer.  Unquestioning  submis- 
sion to  the  divine  will  was  inculcated.  Some 
even  went  so  far  as  to  think  it  improper  to  de- 
fine any  wish  at  all,  and  subsumed  all  prayer 
under  the  one  formula,  "  Thy  will  be  done." 
Such  was  the  teaching  of  St.  Augustine,  whose 
favorite  prayer  was  Da  quodjubes,  etjube  quod 
vis,  a  phrase  much  criticized  by  Pelagius  and 
others  of  his  time  as  too  quietistic.1  The  usual 
Christian  doctrine  of  resignation  proceeds  in 
theory  to  this  extent.  Such  a  notion  of  the  pur- 
pose of  prayer  leads  to  a  cheerful  acceptance  of 
the  effects  of  physical  laws,  effects  which  an 
enlightened  religious  mind  never  asks  to  be 
altered  in  its  favor,  for  the  promises  and  aims 
of  religion  should  be  wholly  outside  the  arena  of 
their  operation.  The  ideal  prayer  has  quite 
other  objects  than  to  work  material  changes. 

To  say,  as  does  Mr.  Hodgson,  that  its  aim  is 
the  increase  of  the  joyful  emotions  is  far  from 

1  Aurplii  Augustini,  De  Dono  Pvrseverantice,  cap.  xx. 
Comte  remarks  "  Depuis  St.  Augustin  toutes  les  ames  pures 
ont  de  plus  en  plus  senti,  atravers  1'egoisme  Chret:en,  qneprier 
peutn'etre  pas  demander."  Systtme  de  Politiqne  Positive,  I.,  p. 
260.  Popular  Protestantism  has  retrograded  in  this  respect. 


PRAYER  DEFINED.  129 

sufficient.  The  same  may  be  said  of  most 
human  effort,  the  effort  to  make  money,  for  in- 
stance. The  indirect  object  of  money-making 
is  also  the  increase  of  the  agreeable  feelings. 
The  similarity  of  purpose  might  lead  to  a  belief 
that  the  aims  of  religion  and  business  are  iden- 
tical. 

Before  we  can  fully  decide  on  what,  in  the 
specifically  religious  sense  of  the  word,  is  the 
answer  to  prayer,  we  should  inquire  as  a  matter 
of  fact  what  effect  it  actually  exerts,  and  to  do 
this  we  should  understand  what  it  is  as  a  psy- 
chological process.  The  reply  to  this  is  that 
prayer,  in  its  psychological  definition,  is  a  form 
of  Expectant  Attention.  It  is  always  urged  by 
religious  teachers  that  it  must  be  very  earnest  and 
continuous  to  be  successful.  "  Importunity  is  of 
the  essence  of  successful  prayer,"  says  Canon 
Liddon  in  a  recent  sermon.  In  the  New  Tes- 
tament it  is  likened  to  a  constant  knocking  at 
a  door  ;  and  by  a  curious  parity  of  thought  the 
Chinese  character  for  prayer  is  composed  of  the 
signs  for  a  spirit  and  an  axe  or  hammer.1 
We  must  "  keep  hammering  "  as  a  colloquial 
phrase  has  it.  Strong  belief  is  also  required. 
To  pray  with  faith  we  must  expect  with  confi- 
dence. 

1  Plath,  Die  Religion  und  Cultus  der  alien  Chineser,  s.  836. 
This  author  observes  that  the  Chinese  prayers  are  confined  to  tem- 
poral benefits  only,  and  are  all  either  prayers  of  petition  or  grat- 
itude. Prayers  of  contrition  are  unknown. 

9 


130  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Now  that  such  a  condition  of  expectant  at- 
tention, prolonged  and  earnest,  will  have  a  very 
powerful  subjective  effect,  no  one  acquainted 
with  the  functions  of  the  human  economy  can 
doubt.  "  Any  state  of  the  body,"  observes 
the  physiologist  Miiller,  "  expected  with  certain 
confidence  is  very  prone  to  ensue."  A  pill  of 
bread-crumbs,  which  the  patient  supposes  to 
contain  a  powerful  cathartic,  will  often  produce 
copious  evacuations.  No  one  who  studies  the 
history  of  medicine  can  question  that  scrof- 
ulous swellings  and  ulcerations  were  cured  by 
the  royal  touch,  that  paralytics  have  regained  the 
use  of  their  limbs  by  touching  the  relics  of  the 
saints,  and  that  in  many  countries  beside  Judea 
the  laying  on  of  hands  and  the  words  of  a  holy 
man  have  made  issues  to  heal  and  the  lame  to  walk.1 

Such  effects  are  not  disputed  by  physicians  as 
probable  results  of  .prayer  or  faith  considered  as 
expectant  attention.  The  stigmata  of  St.  Fran- 
cis d'Assisi  are  more  than  paralleled  by  those 
of  Louise  Lateau,  now  living  at  Bois  d'Haine  in 
Belgium,  whose  hands,  feet  and  side  bleed  every 
Friday  like  those  of  Christ  on  the  cross.  A 
commission  of  medical  men  after  the  most  care- 
ful precautions  against  deception  attributed 
these  hemorrhages  to  the  effect  of  expectation 

1  Numerous  examples  can  be  found  in  medical  text  books, 
for  instance  in  Dr.Tuke's,  The  Influence,  of  the  Mind  on  the  Body. 
London,  1873. 


THE  POWER  OF  BELIEF.  131 

(prayer)  vastly  increased  in  force  by  repetition.1 
If  human  testimony  is  worth  anything,  the  cures 
of  Porte  Royal  e  are  not  open  to  dispute.2 

The  mental  consequences  of  a  prayerful  con- 
dition of  mind  are  to  inspire  patience  under 
afflictions,  hope  in  adversity,  courage  in  the 
presence  of  danger  and  a  calm  confidence  in  the 
face  of  death  itself.  How  mightily  such  in- 
fluences have  worked  in  history  is  shown  in  every 
religious  war,  and  in  the  lives  of  the  martyrs  of 
all  faiths.  It  matters  not  what  they  believed,  so 
only  that  they  believed  it  thoroughly,  and  the 
gates  of  Hades  could  not  prevail  against  them. 

No  one  will  question  that  these  various  and 
momentous  results  are  the  legitimate  effects  or 
answers  to  prayers.  But  whether  prayer  can  in- 
fluence the  working  of  the  material  forces  ex- 
ternal to  the  individual  is  a  disputed  point.  If 
it  cannot  in  some  way  do  this,  prayers  for  rain, 
for  harvests,  for  safety  at  sea,  for  restoration  to 
health,  for  delivery  from  grasshoppers3  and 

1  The  commission  appointed  by  tli3  Royal  Academy  of  Med- 
icine of  Belgium  on  Louise  Lateau  reported  in  March,  1875,  and 
most  of  the  medical  periodicals  of  that  year  contain  abstracts  of 
its  paper. 

2  They  may  be  found  in  the  life  of  Pascal,  written  by  his 
sister,  and  in  many  other  works  of  the  time. 

3  It  is  worthy  of  note,  as  an  exponent  of  the  condition  of 
religious  thought  in  1 S75,  that  in  May  of  that  year  the  Gover- 
nor of  the  State  of  Missouri  appointed  by  official  proclamat'on 
a  day  of  prayer  to  check  the  advance  of  the  grasshoppers.     He 
should  also  have  requested  the  clergy  to  pronounce  the  ban  of 


132  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

pestilence,  whether  for  our  own  benefit  or  others, 
are  hardly  worth  reciting.  A  physicist  expresses 
the  one  opinion  in  these  words  :  "  Science  asserts 
that  without  a  disturbance  of  natural  law,  quite 
as  serious  as  the  stoppage  of  an  eclipse  or  the 
rolling  of  the  St.  Lawrence  up  the  Falls  of 
Niagara,  no  act  of  humiliation,  individual  or 
national,  could  call  one  shower  from  heaven  or 
deflect  toward  us  a  single  beam  of  the  sun." 
"  Assuming  the  efficacy  of  free  prayer  to  pro- 
duce changes  in  external  nature,  it  necessarily 
follows  that  natural  laws  are  more  or  less  at  the 
mercy  of  man's  volition."  1 

This  authoritative  statement,  much  discussed 
at  the  time  it  was  published,  does  not  in  fact 
express  the  assertion  of  science.  To  the  scientific 
apprehension,  man's  volitions  and  his  prayers  are 
states  of  emotion,  inseparably  connected  in  their 
manifestations  with  changes  in  his  cerebral 
structure,  with  relative  elevation  of  temperature, 
and  with  the  elimination  of  oxygen  and  phos- 
phorus, in  other  words  with  chemico- vital  phe- 
nomena and  the  transformation  of  force.  Science 
also  adds  that  there  is  a  constant  interaction  of 
'  all  force,  and  it  is  not  prepared  to  deny  that  the 
force  expended  by  a  national  or  individual 
prayer  may  become  a  co-operating  cause  in 

the  Church  against  them,  as  the  Bishop  of  Rheims  did  in  the 
ninth  century. 

1  Tyndall,  On  Prayer  and  Natural  Law,  1872. 


PRAYER  AND  FORCE.  133 

the  material  change  asked  for,  even  if  the  latter 
be  a  rain  shower.  This  would  not  affect  a 
natural  law  but  only  its  operation,  and  that 
much  every  act  of  our  life  does.  The  fact  that 
persistency  and  earnestness  in  prayer — i.  e.,  the 
increased  development  of  force — add  to  its 
efficacy,  would  accord  with  such  a  scientific 
view.  It  would  further  be  very  materially 
corroborated  by  the  accepted  doctrine  of  the 
orders  of  force.  A  unit  of  electrical  or  magnetic 
force  equals  many  of  the  force  of  gravity ;  a 
number  of  electrical  units  are  required  to  make 
one  of  chemical  force;  and  chemico- vital  or 
" metabolic"  force  is  still  higher;  whereas 
thought  regarded  as  a  form  of  force  must  be 
vastly  beyond  this  again. 

To  render  a  loadstone,  which  lifts  filings  of 
iron  by  its  magnetic  force,  capable  of  doing  the 
same  by  the  force  of  gravity,  its  density  would 
have  to  be  increased  more  than  a  thousand 
million  times.  All  forces  differ  in  like  degree. 
Professor  Faraday  calculated  that  the  force 
latent  in  the  chemical  composition  of  one  drop 
of  water,  equals  that  manifested  in  an  average 
thunderstorm.  In  our  limited  knowledge  of  the 
relation  of  forces  therefore,  a  scientific  man  is 
rash  to  deny  that  the  chemico- vital  forces  set 
loose  by  an  earnest  prayer  may  affect  the  oper- 
ation of  natural  laws  outside  the  body  as  they 
confessedly  do  in  it. 


134  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Experience  alone  can  decide  such  a  question, 
and  I  for  one,  from  theory  and  from  observation, 
believe  in  the  material  efficacy  of  prayer.  In  a 
certain  percentage  of  the  cases  where  the  wished- 
for  material  result  followed,  the  physical  force  of 
the  active  cerebral  action  has  seemed  to  me  a 
co-operating  cause.  A  physician  can  observe 
this  to  best  advantage  in  the  sickness  of  children, 
as  they  are  free  from  subjective  bias,  their  con- 
stitutions are  delicately  susceptible,  and  the 
prayers  for  them  are  in  their  immediate  vicinity 
and  very  earnest. 

But  this  admission  after  all  is  a  barren  one 
to  the  truly  devout  mind.  The  effect  gained 
does  not  depend  on  the  God  to  whom  the  prayer 
is  offered.  Blind  physical  laws  bring  it  about, 
and  any  event  that  comes  through  their  compul- 
sive force  is  gelded  of  its  power  to  fecundate  the 
germs  of  the  better  religious  life.  The  knowl- 
edge of  this  would  paralyze  faith. 

Further  to  attenuate  the  value  of  my  admission, 
another  consideration  arises,  this  time  prompted 
not  by  speculative  criticism,  but  by  reverence 
itself.  A  scholar  whom  I  have  already  quoted 
justly  observes :  "  Whenever  we  prefer  a  request 
as  a  means  of  obtaining  what  we  wish  for,  we 
are  not  praying  in  the  religious  sense  of  the 
term." 1  Or,  as  a  recent  theologian  puts  the  same 

1  S.  M.  Hodgson,  An  Inquiry  into  the  Theory  of  Practice, 
pp.  329,  330. 


WORDS  OF  ST.  JOHN.  135 

idea  :  "  Every  true  prayer  prays  to  be  refused, 
if  the  granting  of  it  would  be  hurtful  to  us  or 
subversive  of  God's  glory."  1  The  real  answer 
to  prayer  can  never  be  an  event  or  occurrence. 
Only  in  moments  of  spiritual  weakness  and 
obscured  vision,  when  governed  by  his  emotions 
or  sensations,  will  the  reverent  soul  ask  a  definite 
transaction,  a  modification  in  the  operation  of 
natural  laws,  still  less  such  vulgar  objects  as 
victory,  wealth  or  health. 

The  prayer  of  faith  finds  its  only  true  ob- 
jective answer  in  itself,  in  accepting  whatever 
befalls  as  the  revelation  of  the  will  of  God  as 
to  what  is  best.  This  temper  of  mind  as  the 
real  meaning  of  prayer  was  beautifully  set  forth 
by  St.  John :  "If  we  know  that  he  hear  us, 
whatsoever  we  ask,  we  know  that  we  have  the 
petitions  that  we  desired  of  him." 2 

But  this  solution  of  the  problem  does  not  go 
far  enough.  Prayer  is  claimed  to  have  a  posi- 
tive effect  on  the  mind  other  than  resignation. 
Joyful  emotions  are  its  fruits,  spiritual  enlight- 
enment its  reward.  These  are  more  than  cheer- 
ful acquiescence,  nor  can  the  latter  come  from 
objects  of  sense. 

1  The  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  K.  Conrad,     Thoughts  on  Prayer,  p. 
54:  New  York,  1875. 

2  I.  John,  v.   15.     "  There  are   millions   of  prayers,"    says 
Richard  Baxter,    "that  will  all  be   found  answered  at  death 
and  judgment,  which  we  know  not  to  be  answered  any  way  but 
by  believing  it."     A  Christian  Directory,  Part  II.  chap,  xxiii. 


136  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

The  most  eminent  teachers  agree  in  banish- 
ing material  pleasure  and  prosperity  from  holy 
desires.  They  are  of  one  mind  in  warning 
against  what  the  world  and  the  flesh  can  offer, 
against  the  pursuit  of  riches,  power  and  lust. 
Many  counsel  poverty  and  deliberate  renuncia- 
tion of  all  such  things.  Nor  is  the  happiness 
they  talk  of  that  which  the  pursuit  of  intellect- 
ual truth  brings.  This,  indeed,  confers  joy,  of 
which  whoever  has  tasted  will  not  hastily  re- 
turn to  the  fleshpots  of  the  senses,  but  it  is 
easy  to  see  that  it  is  not  religious.  Prayer  and 
veneration  have  not  a  part  in  it.  Great  joy  is 
likewise  given  by  the  exercise  of  the  imagination 
when  stirred  by  art  in  some  of  its  varied  forms, 
and  a  joy  more  nearly  allied  to  religion  than  is 
that  of  scientific  investigation.  But  the  esthetic 
emotions  are  well  defined,  and  are  distinctly 
apart  from  those  concerned  with  the  religious 
sentiment.  Their  most  complete  satisfaction 
rather  excludes  than  encourages  pious  medita- 
tions. That  which  prayer  ought  to  seek  outside 
of  itself  is  different  from  all  of  these,  its  dower 
must  be  divine. 

We  need  not  look  long  for  it.  Though 
hidden  from  the  wise,  it  has  ever  been  familiar 
to  the  unlearned.  Man  has  never  been  in  doubt 
as  to  what  it  is.  He  has  been  only  too  willing 
to  believe  he  has  received  it. 

In  barbarism  and  civilization,  in  the  old  and 


THE  HIGHEST  ANSWER.  137 

new  worlds,  the  final  answer  to  prayer  has  ever 
been  acknowledged  to  be  inspiration,  revela- 
tion, the  thought  of  God  made  clear  to  the 
mind  of  man,  the  mystical  hypostasis  through 
which  the  ideas  of  the  human  coincide  with 
those  of  universal  Intelligence.  This  is  what 
the  Pythian  priestess,  the  Siberian  shaman,  the 
Roman  sibyl,  the  Yoluspan  prophetess,  the  In- 
dian medicine-man,  all  claimed  in  various  degrees 
along  with  the  Hebrew  seers  and  the  Mahometan 
teacher.1 

The  TRUTH,  the  last  and  absolute  truth,  is 
what  is  everywhere  recognized  as,  if  not  the 
only,  at  least  the  completest,  the  highest  answer 
to  prayer.  "  Where  I  found  the  truth,  there  I 
found  my  God,  himself  the  truth,  "  says  St.  Au- 
gustine ;  and  in  a  prayer  by  St.  Chrysostom, 
the  "  Golden  Mouth,"  unsurpassed  in  its  grand 
simplicity,  it  is  said :  "  Almighty  Father,  * 
grant  us  in  this  world  knowledge  of  Thy  truth, 
and  in  the  world  to  come,  life  everlasting." 
Never  has  the  loftiest  purpose  of  prayer  been 
more  completely  stated.  This  it  was  that  had 
been  promised  them  by  Him,  to  whom  they  look- 
ed as  an  Intercessor  for  their  petitions,  who  had 
said :  "  I  will  send  unto  you  the  Comforter.  *  * 

1  "  So  wie  das  Gebet  ein  Hauptwurzel  alter  Lehre  war,  so  war 
das  Deuten  und  Offenbaren  ihre  urspriingliche  Form."  Creuzer, 
Symbolik  und  MylTiologie  der  alien  ViJlker,  Bd.  I. ,  s.  10.  It  were 
more  accurate  to  say  that  divination  is  the  answer  to,  rather 
than  a  form  of  prayer. 


138  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

When  he,  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  is  come,  he  will 
guide  you  unto  all  truth." 

The  belief  that  this  answer  is  at  all  times  at- 
tainable has  always  been  recognized  by  the 
Christian  Church,  Apostolic,  Catholic,  and  Pro- 
testant. Baptism  was  called  by  the  Greek  fathers, 
"  enlightenment "  ($^07^?),  as  by  it  the  be- 
liever received  the  spirit  of  truth.  The  Roman- 
ist, in  the  dogma  of  infallibility,  proclaims  the 
perpetual  inspiration  of  a  living  man  ;  the  Pro- 
testant Churches  in  many  creeds  and  doctrinal 
works  extend  a  substantial  infallibility  to  all 
true  believers,  at  least  to  the  extent  that  they 
can  be  inspired  to  recognize,  if  not  to  receive 
divine  verity. 

The  Gallican  Confession  of  Faith,  adopted  in 
1561,  rests  the  principal  evidence  of  the  truth 
of  the  Scriptures  on  "  le  temoignage  et  Tinte- 
rieure  persuasion  du  Saint  Esprit, "  and  the 
Westminster  Confession  on  "  the  inward  work 
of  the  holy  spirit."  The  Society  of  Friends 
maintain  it  as  "  a  leading  principle,  that  the 
work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  soul  is  not  only 
immediate  and  direct,  but  perceptible  ;  "  that  it 
imparts  truth  "  without  any  mixture  of  error;  " 
and  thus  is  something  quite  distinct  from  con- 
science, which  is  common  to  the  race,  while  this 
"  inward  light "  is  given  only  to  the  favored  of 
God.1 

1  Joseph  John  Gurney,  The  Distinguishing  Views  and  Practices 


INSPIRATION.  139 

The  non-juror,  William  Law,  emphatically 
says  :  "  The  Christian  that  rejects  the  necessity 
of  immediate  divine  inspiration,  pleads  the  whole 
cause  of  infidelity  ;  he  has  nothing  to  prove  the 
goodness  of  his  own  Christianity,  but  that  which 
equally  proves  to  the  Deist  the  goodness  of  his 
infidelity."  1  That  by  prayer  the  path  of  duty 
will  be  made  clear,  is  a  universal  doctrine. 

The  extent  to  which  the  gift  of  inspiration 
is  supposed  to  be  granted  is  largely  a  matter  of 
church  government.  Where  authority  prevails, 
it  is  apt  to  be  confined  to  those  in  power. 
Where  religion  is  regarded  as  chiefly  sub- 
jective and  individual,  it  is  conceded  that  any 
pious  votary  may  become  the  receptacle  of  such 
special  light. 

Experience,  however,  has  too  often  shown 
that  inspiration  teaches  such  contradictory  doc- 
trines that  they  are  incompatible  with  any 
standard.  The  indefinite  splitting  of  Protestant 
sects  has  convinced  all  clear  thinkers  that  the 
claim  of  the  early  Confessions  to  a  divinely  given 


of  the  Society  of  Friends,  pp.  58,  59,  7G,  78.  An  easy  conse- 
quence of  this  view  was  to  place  the  decrees  of  the  internal 
monitor  above  the  written  word.  This  was  advocated  mainly 
by  Elias  Hicks,  who  expressed  his  doctrine  in  the  words  :  "  As 
no  spring  can  rise  higher  than  its  fountain,  so  likewise  the 
Scriptures  can  only  direct  to  the  fountain  whence  they  origin- 
ated—the Spirit  of  Truth."  Letters  of  Elias  Hicks,  p.  228 
(Phila.,  1861). 

*  Address  to  the  Clergy,  p.  67. 


140  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

power  of  distinguishing  the  true  from  the  false 
has  been  a  mistaken  supposition.  As  a  proof  to 
an  unbeliever,  such  a  gift  could  avail  nothing ; 
and  as  evidence  to  one's  own  mind,  it  can  only  be 
accepted  by  those  who  deliberately  shut  their 
eyes  to  the  innumerable  contradictions  it  offers.1 
While,  therefore,  in  this,  if  anywhere,  we  per- 
ceive the  only  at  once  fit  and  definite  answer  to 
prayer,  and  find  that  this  is  acknowledged  by  all 
faiths,  from  the  savage  to  the  Christian,  it  would 
seem  that  this  answer  is  a  fallacious  and  futile 
one.  The  teachings  of  inspiration  are  infinitely 
discrepant  and  contradictory,  and  often  plainly 
world- wide  from  the  truth  they  pretend  to  em- 
body. The  case  seems  hopeless;  yet,  as  religion 
of  any  kind  without  prayer  is  empty,  there  has 
been  a  proper  unwillingness  to  adopt  the  con- 
clusion just  stated. 

The  distinction  has  been  made  that  "  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Christian  is  altogether  subject- 
ive, and  directed  to  the  moral  improvement  of 
the  individual,"2  not  to  facts  of  history  or  ques- 
tions of  science,  even  exegetic  science.  The 
term  illumination  has  been  preferred  for  it,  and 
while  it  is  still  defined  as  "a  spiritual  intelli- 
gence which  brings  truth  within  the  range  of 

1  See  an  intelligent  note  on  this  subject  in  the  Rev.  Wm. 
Lee's  work,  entitled  The  Inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  pp. 
44,47  (London  and  New  York,  1857). 

2  Rev.  William  Lee,  M.  *.,  p.  243. 


BELIEF.  Ill 

mental  apprehension  by  a  kind  of  intuition,,"1 
this  truth  has  reference  only  to  immediate  mat- 
ters of  individual  faith  and  practice.  The  Ro- 
man church  allows  more  latitude  than  this,  as  it 
sanctions  revelations  concerning  events,  but  not 
concerning  doctrines.2 

Looked  at  narrowly,  the  advantage  which 
inspiration  has  been  to  religions  has-  not  so 
much  depended  on  what  it  taught,  as  on  its 
strength  as  a  psychological  motive  power.  As 
a  general  mental  phenomenon  it  does  not  so 
much  concern  knowledge  as  belief ;  its  province 
is  to  teach  faith  rather  than  facts.  No  convic- 
tion can  equal  that  which  arises  from  an  asser- 
tion of  God  directly  to  ourselves.  The  force  of 
the  argument  lies  not  in  the  question  whether 
he  did  address  us,  but  whether  we  believe  he 
did.  As  a  stimulus  to  action,  prayer  thus  rises 
to  a  prime  power. 

Belief  is  considered  by  Professor  Bain  and 
his  school  to  be  the  ultimate  postulate,  the  final 
ground  of  intellection.  It  is  of  the  utmost  im- 
portance, however, —  and  this  Professor  Bain 
fails  to  do — to  distinguish  between  two  kinds  of 
belief.  There  are  men  who  believe  and  others 
who  disbelieve  the  Koran  or  the  Bible  \  I  can 


1  Blunt,  Dictionary  of  Doctrinal  and  Historical  Theolor/if,  s.  v. 

2  There  is  a  carefully  written  essay  on  the  views  of  the  Ro- 
mish Church  on  this  subject,  preceding  The  Revelations  of  Saint 
Brigida  (N.  Y.  1875). 


142  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

accept  or  reject  the  historical  existence  of  King 
Arthur  or  Napoleon ;  but,  if  I  understand  them, 
I  cannot  disbelieve  the  demonstrations  of  Eu- 
clid, nor  the  relations  of  subject  and  object, 
nor  the  formal  laws  of  thought.  No  sane  man, 
acquainted  with  the  properties  of  numbers,  can 
believe  that  twice  three  are  ten,  or  that  a  thing 
can  be  thought  as  other  than  itself.  These 
truths  that  "  we  cannot  help  believing,"  I  have 
defined  in  the  first  chapter  as  absolute  truths. 
They  do  not  come  to  us  through  testimony  and 
induction,  but  through  a  process  variously  called 
"  immediate  perception,"  "  apprehension,"  or 
"intuition,"  a  process  long  known  but  never 
satisfactorily  explained. 

All  such  truths  are  analytic,  that  is,  they  are 
true,  not  merely  for  a  given  time  or  place,  but 
at  all  times  and  places  conceivable,  or,  time  and 
space  out  of  the  question,  they  still  remain  for- 
mally true.  Of  course,  therefore,  they  cannot 
refer  to  historic  occurrences  nor  phenomena. 
The  modern  position,  that  truth  lies  in  facts, 
must  be  forsaken,  and  with  the  ancients,  we 
must  place  it  in  ideas. 

If  we  define  inspiration  as  that  condition  of 
mind  which  is  in  the  highest  degree  sensitive 
to  the  presence  of  such  truth,  we  have  of  it  the 
only  worthy  idea  which  it  is  possible  to  frame. 
The  object  of  scientific  investigation  is  to  reach 
a  truth  which  can  neither  be  denied  nor  doubt- 


IXSPIRA  TION  DEFINED.  143 

ed.  If  religion  is  willing  to  content  itself  with 
any  lower  form  of  truth,  it  cannot  support  its 
claims  to  respect,  let  alone  reverence. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  subjects  with  which 
the  religious  sentiment  concerns  itself  are  not 
such  as  are  capable  of  this  absolute  expression. 
This  is,  however,  disclaimed  by  all  great  re- 
formers, and  by  none  more  emphatically  than 
by  him  who  said :  "  Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass 
away,  but  my  statements  (A«^««)  shall  not  pass 
away."  There  is  clear  reference  here  to  abso- 
lute truths.  If  what  we  know  of  God,  duty  and 
life,  is  not  capable  of  expression  except  in  his- 
toric narrative  and  synthetic  terms,  the  sooner 
we  drop  their  consideration  the  better.  That 
form  sufficed  for  a  time,  but  can  no  longer, 
when  a  higher  is  generally  known.  As  the 
mathematical  surpasses  the  historic  truth,  so  the 
former  is  in  turn  transcended  by  the  purely 
logical,  and  in  this,  if  anywhere,  religion  must 
rest  its  claims  for  recognition.  Here  is  the 
arena  of  the  theology  of  the  future,  not  in  tho 
decrees  of  councils,  nor-  in  the  records  of  past 
time. 

Inspiration,  in  its  religious  sense,  we  may, 
therefore,  define  to  be  that  condition  of  mind  in 
which  the  truths  relating  to  deity  and  duty  be- 
come in  whole  or  in  part  the  subjects  of  im- 
mediate perception. 

That  such  a   condition  is   possible   will   be 


144  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

granted.  Every  reformer  who  has  made  a  per- 
manent betterment  in  the  religion  of  his  time 
has  possessed  it  in  some  degree.  He  who  first 
conceived  the  Kosmos  under  logical  unity  as  an 
orderly  whole,  had  it  in  singular  power ;  so  too 
had  he  who  looking  into  the  mind  became  aware 
of  its  purposive  laws  which  are  the  everlasting 
warrants  of  duty.  Some  nations  have  possessed 
it  in  remarkable  fulness,  none  more  so  than  the 
descendants  of  Abraham,  from  himself,  who  left 
his  kindred  and  his  father's  house  at  the  word 
of  God,  through  many  eminent  seers  down  to 
Spinoza,  who  likewise  forsook  his  tribe  to  obey 
the  inspirations  vouchsafed  him',  surpassing  them 
all,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  to  whose  mind,  as  he  waxed 
in  wisdom,  the  truth  unfolded  itself  in  such  sur- 
passing clearness  that  neither  his  immediate  dis- 
ciples nor  any  generations  since  have  fathomed 
all  the  significance  of  his  words. 

Such  minds  do  not  need  development  and 
organic  transmission  of  thought  to  enrich  their 
stores.  We  may  suppose  the  organization  of 
their  brains  to  be  so  perfect  that  their  functions  are 
always  accordant  with  true  reasoning,  so  self- 
prompting,  that  a  hint  of  the  problem  is  all  they 
ask  to  arrive  at  its  demonstration.  Blaise  Pascal, 
when  a  boy  of  twelve,  whose  education  had  been 
carefully  restrained,  once  asked  his  father  what  is 
geometry.  The  latter  replied  that  it  is  a  method 
devised  to  draw  figures  correctly,  but  forbade 


THE  PURSUIT  OF  INSPIRATION.  145 

any  further  inquiry  about  it.  On  this  hint  Pascal, 
by  himself,  unassisted,  without  so  much  as  know- 
ing the  name  of  a  line  or  circle,  reached  in  a 
few  weeks  to  the  demonstration  of  the  thirty- 
second  problem  of  the  first  book  of  Euclid  !  Is 
it  not  possible  for  a  mind  equally  productive  of 
religious  truth  to  surpass  with  no  less  ease  its 
age  on  such  subjects  ? 

As  what  Newton  so  well  called  "  patient 
thought,"  constant  application,  prolonged  atten- 
tion, is  the  means  on  which  even  great  minds 
must  rely  in  order  to  reach  the  sempiternal  ver- 
ities of  science,  so  earnest  continued  prayer  is 
that  which  all  teachers  prescribe  as  the  only 
avenue  to  inspiration  in  its  religious  sense. 
While  this  may  be  conceded,  collaterals  of  the 
prayer  have  too  often  been  made  to  appear 
trivial  and  ridiculous. 

In  the  pursuit  of  inspiration  the  methods  obr 
served  present  an  interesting  similarity.  The 
votary  who  aspires  to  a  communion  with  the  god, 
shuts  himself  out  from  the  distraction  of  social 
intercourse  and  the  disturbing  allurements  of 
the  senses.  In  the  solitude  of  the  forest  or  the 
cell, with  complete  bodily  inaction,  he  gives  himself 
to  fasting  and  devotion,  to  a  concentration  of 
all  his  mind  on  the  one  object  of  his  wish,  the 
expected  revelation.  Waking  and  sleeping  he 
banishes  all  other  topics  of  thought,  perhaps  by 

an  incessant  repetition  of  a  formula,  until  at  last 

10 


146  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

the  moment  comes,  as  it  surely  will  come  in  some 
access  of  hallucination,  furor  or  ecstasy,  the  un- 
failing accompaniments  of  excessive  mental  strain, 
when  the  mist  seems  to  roll  away  from  the  mor- 
tal vision,  the  inimical  powers  which  darkened 
the  mind  are  baffled,  and  the  word  of  the  Creator 
makes  itself  articulate  to  the  creature. 

Take  any  connected  account  of  the  reve- 
lation of  the  divine  will,  and  this  history  is 
substantially  the  same.  It  differs  but  little 
whether  told  of  Buddha  Sakyamuni,  the  royal 
seer  of  Kapilavastu,  or  by  Catherine  Wabose,  the 
Chipeway  squaw,1  concerning  the  Revelations  of 
St.  Gertrude  of  Nivelles  or  of  Saint  Brigida,  or 
in  the  homely  language  of  the  cobbler  George 
Fox. 

For  six  years  did  Sakyamuni  wander  in  the 
forest,  practising  the  mortifications  of  the  flesh 
and  combatting  the  temptations  of  the  devil,before 
the  final  night  when,  after  overcoming  the  crown- 
ing enticements  of  beauty,  power  and  wealth,  at 
a  certain  moment  he  became  the  "  awakened," 
and  knew  himself  in  all  his  previous  births,  and 
with  that  knowledge  soared  above  the  "  divine 
illusion  "  of  existence.  In  the  cave  of  Hari,  Mo- 
hammed fasted  and  prayed  until  "  the  night  of 

1  Clmsco  or  Catherine  Wabose,  "  the  prophetess  of  Chegoi- 
megon,"  has  left  a  full  and  psychologically  most  valuable  account 
of  her  inspiration.  It  is  published  in  Schoolcraf  t's  History  and 
Statistics  of  the  Indian  Tribes,  Vol.  I.,  p.  o30,  sqq. 


THE  «  OPENINGS  »  OF  FOX.  147 

the   divine  decisions  ;  "  then  he  saw  the   angel 
Gabriel  approach  and  inspire  him  : 

"  A  revelation  was  revealed  to  him  : 
One  terrible  in  power  taught  it  him, 
Endowed  with  wisdom.     With  firm  step  stood  he, 
There,  where  the  horizon  is  highest, 
Then  came  he  near  and  nearer, 
A  matter  of  two  bowshots  or  closer, 
And  lie  revealed  to  his  servant  a  revelation ; 
He  has  falsified  not  what  he  saw."1 

With  not  dissimilar  preparation  did  George 
Fox  seek  the  "  openings  '  which  revealed  to  him 
the  hollowness  of  the  Christianity  of  his  day,  in 
contrast  to  the  truth  he  found.  In  his  Journal 
he  records  that  for  months  he  "  fasted  much, 
walked  around  in  solitary  places,  and  sate  in 
hollow  trees  and  lonesome  places,  and  frequently 
in  the  night  walked  mournfully  about."  When 
the  word  of  truth  came  to  him  it  was  of  a  sud- 
den, "  through  the  immediate  opening  of  the 
invisible  spirit."  Then  a  new  life  commenced 
for  him :  "  Now  was  I  come  up  in  Spirit  through 
the  flaming  sword  into  the  Paradise  of  God.  All 
things  wrere  new :  all  the  creation  gave  another 
smell  unto  me  than  before."  The  healing  virtues 
of  all  herbs  were  straightway  made  known  to 
him,  and  the  needful  truths  about  the  kingdom  of 
God.2 

1  The  Koran,  Sura  liii.     This  is  in  date  one   of  the  ear- 
liest suras. 

2  The  Journal  of  George  Fox,  pp.  59,  67,  60. 


148  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

These  are  portraitures  of  the  condition  of 
entheasm.  Its  lineaments  are  the  same,  find  it 
where  we  may. 

How  is  this  similarity  to  be  explained  ?  Is 
it  that  this  alleged  inspiration  is  always  but  the 
dream  of  a  half -crazed  brain  ?  The  deep  and 
real  truths  it  has  now  and  then  revealed,  the 
noble  results  it  has  occasionally  achieved,  do  not 
allow  this  view.  A  more  worthy  explanation  is 
at  hand. 

These  preliminaries  of  inspiration  are  in  fact 
but  a  parody,  sometimes  a  caricature,  of  the 
most  intense  intellectual  action  as  shown  in  the 
efforts  of  creative  thought.  The  physiological 
characteristics  of  such  mental  episodes  indicate  a 
lowering  of  the  animal  life,  the  respiration  is 
faint  and  slow,  the  pulse  loses  in  force  and  fre- 
quency, the  nerves  of  special  sense  are  almost 
inhibited,  the  eye  is  fixed  and  records  no  impres- 
sion, the  ear  registers  no  sound,  necessary  motions 
are  performed  unconsciously,  the  condition  ap- 
proaches that  of  trance.  There  is  also  an  alarm- 
ing similarity  at  times  between  the  action  of  ge- 
nius and  of  madness,  as  is  well  known  to  alienists. 

When  the  creative  thought  appears,  it  does  so 
suddenly;  it  breaks  upon  the  mind  when  partly 
engaged  with  something  else  as  an  instantaneous 
flash,  apparently  out  of  connection  with  previous 
efforts.  This  is  the  history  of  all  great  discove- 
ries, and  it  has  been  abundantly  illustrated  from 


THE  PRODUCT  OF  INSPIRATION.  149 

the  lives  of  inventors,  artists,  poets  and  mathe- 
maticians. The  links  of  such  a  mental  procedure 
we  do  not  know.  "  The  product  of  inspiration, 
genius,  is  incomprehensible  to  itself.  Its  activ- 
ity proceeds  on  no  beaten  track,  and  we  seek  in 
vain  to  trace  its  footsteps.  There  is  no  warrant 
for  the  value  of  its  efforts.  This  it  can  alone 
secure  through  voluntary  submission  to  law.  All 
its  powers  are  centred  in  the  energy  of  produc- 
tion, and  none  is  left  for  idle  watching  of  the 
process." 

The  prevalent  theory  of  the  day  is  that 
this  mental  action  is  one  essentially  hidden 
from  the  mind  itself.  The  name  "  unconscious 
cerebration"  has  been  proposed  for  it  by  Dr. 
Carpenter,  and  he  has  amply  and  ably  illustra- 
ted its  peculiarities.  But  his  theory  has  encoun- 
tered just  criticism,  and  I  am  persuaded  does  not 
meet  the  requirements  of  the  case.  Whether  at 
such  moments  the  mind  actually  receives  some 
impulse  from  without,  as  is  the  religious  theory, 
or,  as  science  more  willingly  teaches,  certain 
associations  are  more  easily  achieved  when 
the  mind  is  partially  engaged  with  other  trains 
of  ideas,  we  cannot  be  sure.  We  can  only  say 
of  it,  in  the  words  of  Dr.  Henry  Maudsley,  the 
result  "  is  truly  an  inspiration,  coming  we  know 
not  whence."  Whatever  it  is,  we  recognize  in 

1  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt,  Gesammelte   Werke,   Bd.   iv.,  s. 
278. 


150  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

it  the  original  of  that  of  which  religious  hallu- 
cination is  the  counterfeit  presentment.  So 
similar  are  the  processes  that  their  liability  to  be 
confounded  has  been  expressly  guarded  against.1 

The  prevalence  of  such  caricatures  does  not 
prove  the  absence  of  the  sterling  article.  They 
rather  show  that  the  mind  is  conscious  of  the 
possibility  of  reaching  a  frame  or  mood  in  which 
it  perceives  what  it  seeks,  immediately  and  cor- 
rectly. Buddhism  distinctly  asserts  this  to  be 
the  condition  of  "  the  stage  of  intuitive  in- 
sight ;  "  and  Protestant  Christianity  commenced 
with  the  same  opinion.  Every  prayer  for  guid- 
ance in  the  path  of  duty  assumes  it.  The  error 
is  in  applying  such  a  method  where  it  is  incom- 
patible, to  facts  of  history  and  the  phenomena 
of  physical  force.  Confined  to  the  realm  of 
ideas,  to  which  alone  the  norm  of  the  true  and 
untrue  is  applicable,  there  is  no  valid  evidence 
against,  and  many  theoretical  reasons  for,  re- 
specting prayer  as  a  fit  psychological  preparation 
for  those  obscure  and  unconscious  processes, 
through  which  the  mind  accomplishes  its  best 
work. 

The  intellect,  exalted  by  dwelling  upon  the 
sublimest  subjects  of  thought,  warmed  into 

1  In  his  treatise  De  Veritate,  itself  tlie  subject,  as  its  author 
thought,  of  a  special  revelation,  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury, 
gives  as  one  of  the  earmarks  of  a  real  revelation  :  "ut  afflatum 
Divini  numinis  sentias,  ita  enim  internee  Facultatum  circa  verita- 
tem  operationes  a  revelationibus  externis  distinguuntur."  p.  226. 


WHA  T  INSPIRA  TION  TEA  CUES.  151 

highest  activity  by  the  flames  of  devotion,  spurn- 
in  «•  as  sterile  and  vain  the  offers  of  time  and  the 

o 

enticements  of  sense,  may  certainly  be  then  in 
the  mood  fittest  to  achieve  its  greatest  victories. 
But  no  narrowed  heaven  must  cloud  it,  no  man- 
made  god  obstruct  its  gaze.  Free  from  supersti- 
tion and  prejudice,  it  must  be  ready  to  follow 
wherever  the  voice  of  reason  shall  lead  it.  All 
inspired  men  have  commenced  by  freeing  them- 
selves from  inherited  forms  of  Belief  in  order 
that  with  undiverted  attention  they  might  listen 
to  the  promptings  of  the  divinity  within  their 
souls.  One  of  the  greatest  of  them  and  one  the 
most  free  from  the  charge  of  prejudice,  has  said 
that  to  this  end  prayer  is  the  means.1 

He  who  believes  that  the  ultimate  truth  is 
commensurate  with  reason,  finds  no  stumbling- 
block  in  the  doctrine  that  there  may  be  laws 
through  whose  action  inspiration  is  the  enlight- 
enment of  mind  as  it  exists  in  man,  by  mind  as 
it  underlies  the  motions  which  make  up  matter. 
The  truth  thus  reached  is  not  the  formulae  of 
the  Calculus,  nor  the  verbiage  of  the  Dialectic, 
still  less  the  events  of  history,  but  that  which 
gives  what  validity  they  have  to  all  of  these,  and 
moreover  imparts  to  the  will  and  the  conscience 
their  power  to  govern  conduct. 

1  Spinoza,  Espistolce  et  Responsionnes,  Ep.  xxxiv. 


THE  MYTH  AND  THE  MYTHICAL  CYCLES. 


SUMMARY. 

Myths  are  inspirations  concerning  the  Unknown.  Science  treats  them  as 
apperceptions  of  the  relations  of  man  and  nature.  Moments  of  their  growth, 
as  treated  by  mythological  science.  Their  similar  forms,  explained  variously, 
the  topic  of  the  philosophy  of  mythology.  The  ante-mythical  period. 
Myths  have  centred  chiefly  around  three  subjects,  each  giving  rise  to  a 
Mythical  Cycle. 

I.  The  Epochs  of  Nature. 

The  idea  of  Time  led  to  the  myth  of  a  creation.  This  starting  the  ques- 
tion, What  was  going  on  before  creation?  recourse  was  had  to  the  myth  of 
recurrent  epochs.  The  last  epoch  gave  origin  to  the  Flood  Myths  ;  the  com- 
ing one  to  that  of  the  Day  of  Judgment. 

II.  The  Paradise  lost  and  to  be  re-gained. 

To  man,  the  past  and  the  future  am  ever  better  than  the  present.  He 
imagines  a  Golden  Age  in  the  past  and  bcli  -vos  it  will  return.  The  material 
Paradise  he  dreams  of  in  his  ruder  conditions,  becomes  a  spiritual  one  with 
intellectual  advancement.  The  basis  of  this  belief. 

III.  The  lli.-rivrhy  of  the  Gods. 

The  earliesf  hierarchy  is  a  dual  classification  of  the  gods  into  those  who 
help  and  those  who  hinder  the  fruition  of  desire.  Light  and  darkness  typify 
the  contrast.  Divinity  thus  conceived  nnder  numerical  separateness. 
Monotheisms  do  not  escape  this.  The  triune  nature  of  single  gods.  The 
truly  religious  and  only  philosophic  notion  of  divini'y  is  under  logical,  not 
mathematical  unity.  This  discards  mythical  conceptions. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

THE  MYTH  AND  THE  MYTHICAL  CYCLES. 

RETURNING  again  to  the  definition  of  .the 
elemental  religious  sentiment — "  a  Wish  whose 
fruition  depends  upon  unknown  power  "  —  it 
enables  us  to  class  all  those  notions,  opinions  and 
narratives,  which  constitute  mythologies,  creeds 
and  dogmas,  as  theories  respecting  the  nature  and 
action  of  the  unknown  power.  Of  course  they 
are  not  recognized  as  theories.  They  arise  un- 
consciously or  are  received  by  tradition,  oral  or 
written,  and  always  come  with  the  stamp  of 
divinity  through  inspiration  and  revelation. 
None  but  a  god  can  tell  the  secrets  of  the  gods. 

Therefore  they  are  the  most  sacred  of  all 
things,  and  they  partake  of  the  holiness  and  im- 
mutability which  belong  to  the  unknown  power 
itself.  To  misplace  a  vowel  point  in  copying  the 
sacred  books  was  esteemed  a  sin  by  the  Rabbis, 
and  a  pious  Mussulman  will  not  employ  the  same 
pen  to  copy  a  verse  of  the  Koran  and  an  ordi- 
nary letter.  There  are  many  Christians  who  sup- 
pose the  saying  :  "  Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass 


156  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

away,  but  My  Words  shall  not  pass  away/'  has 
reference  to  the  words  of  the  Old  and  New 
Testament.  "  What  shall  remain  to  us/'  asked 
Ananda,  the  disciple  of  Buddha,  "when  thou 
shall  have  gone  hence  into  Nirvana  ?  "  "  My 
Word  (dharma),"  replied  the  Master.  Names 
thus  came  to  be  as  holy  as  the  objects  to  which 
they  referred.  So  sacred  was  that  of  Jehovah 
to  the  Israelites  that  its  original  sound  was  finally 
lost.  Such  views  are  consistent  enough  to  the 
Buddhist,  who,  assuming  all  existence  to  be  but 
imaginary,  justly  infers  that  the  name  is  full  as 
much  as  the  object. 

The  science  of  mythology  has  made  long 
strides  in  the  last  half  century.  It  has  left  far  be- 
hind it  the  old  euphemeristic  view  that  the  myth 
is  a  distorted  historical  tradition,  as  well  as  the 
theories  not  long  since  in  vogue,  that  it  was  a 
system  of  natural  philosophy,  a  device  of  shrewd 
rulers,  or  as  Bacon  thought,  a  series  of  "  instruct- 
ive fables."  The  primitive  form  of  the  myth 
is  now  recognized  to  be  made  up  from  the  notions 
which  man  gains  of  the  manifestations  of  force 
in  external  nature,  in  their  supposed  relations  to 
himself.  In  technical  language  it  may  be  defined 
as  the  apperception  of  man  and  nature  under 
synthetic  conceptions.1 

i  In  this  definition  the  fa>rd  apperception  is  used  in  the  sense 
assigned  it  by  Professor  Lazarus — the  perception  modified  by 
imagination  and  memory.  "  Mythologie  1st  eine  Appercep- 
tionsform  der  Natur  und  des  Menschen."  (Zeitscliriflfiir  Vol- 


THE  MYTH  DEFINED.  157 

This  primitive  form  undergoes  numerous 
changes,  to  trace  and  illustrate  which,  has  been 
the  special  task  assumed  by  the  many  recent 
writers  on  mythology.  In  some  instances  these 
changes  are  owing  to  the  blending  of  the  myth 
with  traditions  of  facts,  forming  a  quasi-histori- 
cal narrative,  the  saga  ;  in  others,  elaborated  by 
a  poetic  fancy  and  enriched  by  the  imagination, 
it  becomes  a  fairy  tale,  the  mdrchen.  Again,  the 
myth  being  a  product  of  creative  thought,  exist- 
ing in  words  only,  as  language  changes,  it  alters 
through  forgetf ulness  of  the  earlier  meanings  of 
words,  through  similarities  in  sounds  deceiving 
the  ear,  or  through  a  confusion  of  the  literal  with 
the  metaphorical  signification  of  the  same  word. 
The  character  of  languages  also  favors  or  retards 
such  changes,  pliable  and  easily  modified  ones, 
such  as  those  of  the  American  Indians,  and  in  a 
less  degree  those  of  the  Aryan  nations,  favoring  a 
developed  mythology,  while  rigid  and  monosyl- 
labic ones,  as  the  Chinese  and  Semitic  types, 
offer  fewer  facilities  to  such  variations.  Further- 
more, tribal  or  national  history,  the  peculiar  dif- 

kerpsychologie,  Bd.  i.,  s.  44).  Most  recent  mythologists  omit 
the  latter  branch  of  the  definition  ;  for  instance,  "  A  myth  is 
in  its  origin  an  explanation  by  the  uncivilized  mind  of  some 
natural  phenomenon."  (John  Fiske,  Myths  and  Myth  Makers, 
p.  -1).  This  is  to  omit  that  which  gives  the  myth  its  only  claim 
to  be  a  product  of  the  religious  sentiment.  Schopenhauer,  in 
calling  dogmas  and  myths  "the  metaphysics  of  the  people," 
fell  into  the  same  error.  Religion,  as  such,  is  always  concrete. 


158  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

faculties  which  retard  the  growth  of  a  commu- 
nity, and  the  geographical  and  climatic  charac- 
ter of  its  surroundings,  give  prominence  to  cer- 
tain features  in  its  mythology,  and  to  the  ab- 
sence  of  others.  Myths  originally  diverse  are 
blended,  either  unconsciously,  as  that  of  the  Ro- 
man Saturn  with  the  Greek  Cronus  ;  or  con- 
sciously, as  when  the  medieval  missionaries  trans- 
ferred the  deeds  of  the  German  gods  to  Christian 
saints.  Lastly,  the  prevailing  temperament  of  a 
nation,  its  psychology,  gives  a  strong  color  to  its 
mythical  conceptions,  and  imprints  upon  them 
the  national  peculiarities. 

The  judicious  student  of  mythology  must 
carefully  weigh  all  these  formative  agents,  and 
assign  each  its  value.  They  are  all  present  in 
every  mythology,  but  in  varying  force.  His 
object  is  accomplished  when  he  can  point  out  the 
causal  relation  between  the  various  features  of 
a  myth  and  these  governing  agencies. 

Such  is  the  science  of  mythology.  The  phi- 
losophy of  mythology  undertakes  to  set  forth  the 
unities  of  form  which  exist  in  various  myths, 
and  putting  aside  whatever  of  this  uniformity 
is  explainable  historically,  proposes  to  illustrate 
from  what  remains  the  intellectual  need  myths 
were  unconsciously  framed  to  gratify,  to  measure 
their  success  in  this  attempt,  and  if  they  hove 
not  been  wholly  successful,  to  point  out  why  and 
in  what  respect  they  have  failed.  In  a  study 


FORMS  COMMON  TO  THE  MYTHS.  159 

preliminary  to  the  present  one,  I  have  attempted 
to  apply  the  rules  of  mythological  science  to  the 
limited  area  of  the  native  American  race ;  in  the 
present  chapter  I  shall  deal  mainly  with  the 
philosophy  of  mythology. 

The  objection  may  be  urged  at  starting  that 
there  is  no  such  unity  of  form  in  myths  as  the 
philosophy  of  mythology  assumes ;  that  if  it  ap- 
pears, it  is  always  explainable  historically. 

A  little  investigation  sets  this  objection  aside. 
Certain  features  must  be  common  to  all  myths. 
A  divinity  must  appear  in  them  and  his  doings 
with  men  must  be  recorded.  A  reasonable  being 
can  hardly  think  at  all  without  asking  himself, 
"  Whence  come  I,  my  fellows,  and  these  things 
which  I  see  ?  And  what  will  become  of  us  all  ? " 
So  some  myth  is  sure  to  be  created  at  an  early 
stage  of  thought  which  the  parent  can  tell  the 
child,  the  wise  man  his  disciple,  containing  re- 
sponses to  such  questions. 

But  this  reasoning  from  probability  is  need- 
less, for  the  similarity  of  mythical  tales  in  very 
distant  nations,  where  no  hypothesis  of  ancient 
intercourse  is  justified,  is  one  of  the  best  ascer- 
tained and  most  striking  discoveries  of  modern 
mythological  investigation.1  The  general  char- 

i  Half  a  century  ago  the  learned  Mr.  Faber,  in  his  Origin  of 
Payan  Idolatry,  expressed  his  astonishment  at  "  the  singular, 
minute  and  regular  accordance"  between  the  classical  myths. 
That  accordance  has  now  been  discovered  to  be  world-wide. 


ISO  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

acter  of  "  solar  myths"  is  familiar  to  most 
readers,  and  the  persistency  with  which  they 
have  been  applied  to  the  explanation  of  generally 
received  historical  facts,  as  well  as  to  the  familiar 
fairy  tales  of  childhood,  has  been  pushed  so  far 
as  to  become  the  subject  of  satire  and  caricature. 
The  myths  of  the  Dawn  have  been  so  frequently 
brought  to  public  notice  in  the  popular  writings 
of  Professor  Max  Miiller,  that  their  general  dis- 
tribution may  be  taken  as  well  known.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  the  storm  myths.  Wilhelm 
von  Humboldt,  who  thought  deeply  on  the  re- 
ligious nature  of  man,  said  early  in  this  cen- 
tury :  "  Wholly  similar  myths  can  very  readily 
arise  in  different  localities,  each  independent 
of  the  others."  l 

This  similarity  is  in  a  measure  owing  to  the 
similar  impressions  which  the  same  phenomenon, 
the  sunrise  or  the  thunder-storm  for  instance, 
makes  on  the  mind — and  to  this  extent  the 
science  of  mythology  is  adequate  to  its  explana- 
tion. But  that  it  falls  short  is  so  generally 
acknowledged,  that  various  other  explanations 
have  been  offered. 

These  may  be  classed  as  the  skeptical  expla- 
nation, which  claims  that  the  likeness  of  the 
myths  is  vastly  exaggerated  and  much  more  the 
work  of  the  scholar  at  his  desk  than  of  the 

1  "  Ganz  gleiche  Mythen  konnen  sehr  fuglich,  jede  selbststan- 
dig,  an  verschiedenen  Oerter  emporkommen.".Z?ne/e  an  Woelcker. 


T PIE  OR  IE  S  OF  MYTHS.  161 

honest  worshipper ;  the  historical  explanation, 
which  suggests  unrecorded  proselytisms,  for- 
gotten communications  and  the  possible  original 
unity  of  widely  separated  nations;  the  theo- 
logical explanations,  often  discrepant,  one  sug- 
gesting caricatures  of  the  sacred  narrative 
inspired  by  the  Devil,  another  reminiscences  of 
a  primeval  inspiration,  and  a  third  the  un- 
conscious testimony  of  heathendom  to  ortho- 
doxy ; 1  and  lastly  the  metaphysical  explanation, 
which  seems  at  present  to  be  the  fashionable 
one,  expressed  nearly  alike  by  Steinthal  and 
Max  Miiller,  which  cuts  the  knot  by  crediting 
man  with  "an  innate  consciousness  of  the 
Absolute,"  or  as  Renan  puts  it,  "  a  profound 
instinct  of  deity." 

The  philosophy  of  mythology,  differing  from 
all  these,  finding  beyond  question  similarities 
which  history  cannot  unriddle,  interprets  them 
by  no  incomprehensible  assumption,  but  by  the 
identity  of  the  laws  of  thought  acting  on  similar 
impressions  under  the  guidance  of  known  cat- 
egories of  thought.  Nor  does  it  stop  here,  but 
proceeds  to  appraise  these  results  by  the  general 
scheme  of  truth  and  error.  It  asks  for  what 

1  The  last  two  are  the  modern  orthodox  theories,  supported 
by  Bryant,  Faber,  Trench,  De  Maistre  and  Sepp.  Medieval 
Christianity  preferred  the  direct  agency  of  the  Devil.  Primi- 
tive Christianity  leaned  to  the  opinion  that  the  Grecian  and 
Roman  myth  makers  had  stolen  from  the  sacred  writings  of 
the  Jews. 

II 


162  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

psychological  purpose  man  has  so  universally 
imagined  for  himself  gods — pure  creations  of  his 
fancy ; — whether  that  purpose  can  now  or  will 
ultimately  be  better  attained  by  an  exercise  of 
his  intellect  more  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of 
right  reasoning  ;  and  thus  seeking  to  define  the 
genuine  food  of  the  religious  desire,  estimates  the 
quality  and  value  of  each  mythological  system  by 
the  nearness  of  its  approach  to  this  standard. 

The  philosophy  of  mythology,  starting  with 
the  wish  or  prayer  as  the  unit  of  religious 
thought,  regards  all  myths  as  theories  about 
the  unknown  power  which  is  supposed  to  grant 
or  withhold  the  accomplishment  of  the  wish. 
These  theories  are  all  based  upon  the  postulate  of 
the  religious  sentiment,  that  there  is  order  in 
things  ;  but  they  differ  from  scientific  theories 
in  recognizing  volition  as  an  efficient  cause  of 
order. 

The  very  earliest  efforts  at  religious  thought 
do  not  rise  to  the  formation  of  myths,  that  is, 
connected  narratives  about  supernatural  beings. 
All  unknown  power  is  embraced  under  a  word 
which  does  not  convey  the  notion  of  personality; 
single  exhibitions  of  power  which  threaten  man's 
life  are  supposed  to  be  the  doings  of  an  unseen 
person,  often  of  a  deceased  man,  whose  memory 
survives  ;  but  any  general  theory  of  a  hierarchy, 
or  of  the  world  or  man,  is  not  yet  visible.  Even 
such  immature  notions  are,  however,  so  far  as 


THE  "  SEAT  OF  LAW:1  163 

they  go,  framed  within  the  category  of  causality ; 
only,  the  will  of  the  god  takes  the  place  of 
all  other  force.  This  stage  of  religious  thought 
has  been  called  Animism,  a  name  which  does 
not  express  its  peculiarity,  which  is,  that  all  force 
is  not  only  supposed  to  proceed  from  mind,  but 
through  what  metaphysicians  call  "  immanent 
volition,"  that  is,  through  will  independent  of  re- 
lation. Mind  as  "  emanant  volition,"  in  unison 
with  matter  and  law,  the  "  seat  of  law,"  to  use 
an  expression  of  Professor  Boole's,  may  prove 
the  highest  conception  of  force. 

As  the  slowly  growing  reason  reached  more 
general  notions,  the  law  which  prescribes  unity 
as  a  condition  of  thought  led  man  early  in  his 
history  to  look  upon  nature  as  one,  and  to  seek 
for  some  one  law  of  its  changes ;  the  experience 
of  social  order  impressed  him  with  the  belief  that 
the  unseen  agencies  around  him  also  bore  rela- 
tions to  each  other,  and  acknowledged  subjection 
to  a  leader ;  and  the  pangs  of  sickness,  hunger 
and  terror  to  which  he  was  daily  exposed,  and 
more  than  all  the  "  last  and  greatest  of  all 
terribles,  death,"  which  he  so  often  witnessed, 
turned  his  early  meditations  toward  his  own  ori- 
gin and  destiny. 

Around  these  three  subjects  of  thought  his 
fancy  busied  itself,  striving  to  fabricate  some 
theory  which  would  solve  the  enigmas  which  his 
reason  everywhere  met,  some  belief  which  would 


164  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

relieve  him  from  the  haunting  horror  of  the  un- 
known. Hence  arose  three  great  cycles  of 
myths,  which  recur  with  strangely  similar  physi- 
ognomies in  all  continents  and  among  all  races. 
They  are  the  myths  of  the  Epochs  of  Nature, 
the  Hierarchy  of  the  Gods,  and  of  the  Paradise 
lost  but  to  be  regained.  Wherever  we  turn, 
whether  to  the  Assyrian  tablets  or  to  the  verses 
of  the  Voluspa,  to  the  crude  fancies  of  the  red 
man  of  the  new  world  or  the  black  man  of  the 
African  plateau,  to  the  sacred  books  of  the  mod- 
ern Christian  or  of  the  ancient  Brahman,  we  find 
these  same  questions  occupying  his  mind,  and  in 
meaning  and  in  form  the  same  solutions  proffered. 
Through  what  intellectual  operations  he  reached 
these  solutions,  and  their  validity,  as  tested  by 
the  known  criteria  of  truth,  it  is  the  province 
of  the  philosophy  of  mythology  to  determine. 

Let  us  study  the  psychological  growth  of  the 
myth  of  the  Epochs  of  Nature.  This  tells  of 
the  World,  its  beginning,  its  convulsions  and  its 
ending,  and  thus  embraces  the  three  minor  cy- 
cles of  the  cosmogonical,  the  cataclysmal  and  the 
eschatological  myths. 

Nature  is  known  to  man  only  as/orce,  which 
manifests  itself  in  change.  He  is  so  constituted 
,that  "  the  idea  of  an  event,  a  change,  without  the 
idea  of  a  cause,  is  impossible  "  to  him.  But  in 
passing  from  the  occurrence  to  its  cause  the 
idea  of  Time  is  unavoidable ;  it  presents  itself  as 


THE  OPPRESSOR,   TIME.  165 

the  one  inevitable  condition  of  change ;  itself 
unwearing,  it  wears  out  all  else  ;  it  includes  all 
existence,  as  the  greater  does  the  less ;  and  as 
"  causation  is  necessarily  within  existence," 1 
time  is  beyond  existence  and  includes  the  non- 
existent as  well.  Whatever  it  creates,  it  also 
destroys ;  and  as  even  the  gods  are  but  exist- 
ences, it  will  swallow  them.  It  renders  vain 
all  pleasures,  and  carries  the  balm  of  a  certain 
oblivion  for  all  woes. 

This  oppressive  sense  of  time,  regarded  not 
in  its  real  meaning  as  one  of  the  conditions  of 
perception,  but  as  an  active  force  destroying 
thought  as  well  as  motion,  recurs  continually  in 
mythology.  To  the  Greek,  indefinite  time  as 
Cronos,  was  the  oldest  of  the  gods,  begetting 
numberless  children,  but  with  unnatural  act  con- 
suming them  again ;  while  definite  time,  as  the 
Horoe,  were  the  blithe  goddesses  of  the  order  in 
nature  and  the  recurrent  seasons.  Osiris,  su- 
preme god  of  the  Egyptians,  was  born  of  a  yet 
older  god,  Sev,  Time.  Adonis  .  and  Aeon  ac- 
knowledge the  same  parentage.2  The  ancient 
Arab  spoke  of  time  (dahr,  zaman)  as  the  final, 
defining  principle  ;  as  uniting  and  separating  all 
things ;  and  as  swallowing  one  thing  after  an- 
other as  the  camel  drains  the  water  from  a 

1  Sir  Wm.   Hamilton,  Lectures  on  Metaphysics.      Appendix, 
p.  691. 

2  Creuzer,  Symbolik  und  Mythologie,  Bd.  ii.,  s.  107. 


166  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

trough.1  In  the  Koran  it  is  written :  "Time  alone 
destroys  us."  Here  and  there,  through  the  sacred 
songs  of  the  Parsees,  composed  long  before  Aris- 
totle wrote,  beyond  all  the  dust  and  noise  of  the 
everlasting  conflict  of  good  and  evil,  of  Ahura 
Mazda  and  Anya-Mainyus,  there  are  glimpses  of 
a  deeper  power,  Zeruana  Akerana,  Eternal  Du- 
ration, unmoved  by  act  or  thought,  in  the  face 
of  which  these  bitter  opponents  are  seen  to  be 
children,  brethren,  "twin  sons  of  Time."2  The 
Alexandrian  Gnostics,  in  their  explanations  of 
Christian  dogmas,  identify  Aeon,  infinite  time, 
with  God  the  Father,  as^the  source  and  fount  of 
existence ;  not  merely  as  a  predicate  of  the 
highest,  but  the  Highest  himself. 

This  heavy-weighing  sense  of  the  infinity  of 
duration,  and  the  urgency  of  escaping  from  the 
weariness  of  thinking  it,  led  to  the  construction 
of  the  myth  of  the  Creation.  Man  devised  it  so 
that  he  might  be  able  to  say,  "  in  the  begin- 
ning." But  a  new  difficulty  met  him  at  the 
threshold — as  change  must  be  in  existence,  "  we 
cannot  think  of  a  change  from  non-existence  to 
existence."  His  only  refuge  was  to  select  some 
apparently  primordial,  simple,  homogeneous  sub- 
stance from  which,  by  the  exertion  of  volition, 

1  Th.    Xoldeke,  ZeitscJirifl  fur  Volkerpsychologie,     Bd.   iii., 
s.  131. 

2  See  a  note  of  Prof.  Spiegel  to  Ya^na,  29,  of  the  Khordah- 
A  vest  a. 


WATER  THE  FIRST.  167 

things  came  into  being.  The  one  which  most 
naturally  suggested  itself  was  water.1  This  does 
in  fact  cover  and  hide  the  land,  and  the  act  of 
creation  was  often  described  as  the  emerging  of  the 
dry  land  from  the  water  ;  it  dissolves  and  wears 
away  the  hard  rock  ;  and,  diminishing  all  things, 
itself  neither  diminishes  nor  increases.  There- 
fore nearly  all  cosmogonical  myths  are  but 
variations  of  that  one  familiar  to  us  all  :  "  And 
God  said,  Let  the  waters  under  the  heaven  be 
gathered  together  in  one  place,  and  let  the  dry 
land  appear;  and  it  was  so."  The  manifestation 
of  the  primordial  energy  was  supposed  to  have 
been  akin  to  that  which  is  shown  in  organic  re- 
production. The  myths  of  the  primeval  egg 
from  which  life  proceeded,  of  the  mighty  bird 
typical  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  "  brooded  " 
upon  the  waters,  of  Love  developing  the  Kosrnos 
from  the  Chaos,  of  the  bull  bringing  the  world 
from  the  waters,  of  Protogonus,  the  "  egg- 
born,"  the  "  multispermed,"  and  countless 
others,  point  to  the  application  of  one  or  the 
other,  or  of  both  these  explanations.2 

In  them  the  early  thinkers  found  some  rest: 


*  'H  vypa  <f>vGi£  apxf]  KO.L  ytvzcic;  iravrov. 

Plutarch,  De  hide. 

According  to  the  Koran  and  the  Jewish  Rabbis,  the  throne 
of  God  rested  on  the  primeval  waters  from  which  the.  earth  was 
produced.  See  a  note  in  Rodwell's  translation  of  the  Koran, 
Sura.  xi. 

2  1  have  discussed  some  of  these  myths  in  the  seventh  chapter 
of  the  Myths  of  the  New  World. 


168  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

but  not  for  long.  The  perplexity  of  the  pres- 
ence of  this  immediate  order  of  things  seemed 
solved ;  but  another  kept  obtruding  itself :  what 
was  going  on  before  that "  beginning  ?  "  Vain  to 
stifle  the  inquiry  by  replying,  "  nothing." 1  For 
time,  which  knows  no  beginning,  was  there,  still 
building,  still  destroying  ;  nothing  can  be  put  to 
it,  nor  anything  taken  from  it.  What  then  is  left 
but  the  conclusion  of  the  Preacher :  "  That  which 
hath  been,  is  now ;  and  that  which  is  to  be,  hath 
already  been?"  Regarding  time  as  a  form  of 
force,  the  only  possible  history  of  the  material 
universe  is  that  it  is  a  series  of  destructions 
and  restorations,  force  latent  evolving  into  force 
active  or  energy,  and  this  dissipated  and  absorbed 
again  into  latency. 

Expressed  in  myths,  these  destructions  and 
restorations  are  the  Epochs  of  Nature.  They 
are  an  essential  part  of  the  religious  traditions 
of  the  Brahmans,  Persians,  Parsees,  Greeks, 
Egyptians,  Jews,  Mexicans,  Mayas,  and  of  all 
nations  who  have  reached  a  certain  stage  of  cul- 
ture. The  length  of  the  intervening  periods 
may  widely  differ.  The  kalpa  or  great  year  of 
the  Brahmans  is  so  long  that  were  a  cube  of 

1  How  it  troubled  tlie  early  Christians  who  dared  not  adopt 
tlie  refuge  of  the  Epochs  of  Nature,  may  be  seen  in  the  Confes- 
sions of  St.  Augustine,  Lib.  XI,  cap.  10,  etseq.  He  quotes  the 
reply  of  one  pushed  by  the  inquiry,  what  God  was  doing  before 
creation  :  "  He  was  making  a  hell  for  inquisitive  busy-bodies." 
Alta  spectantibus  geliennas  pardbat. 


THE  FLOOD  MYTH.  169 

granite  a  hundred  yards  each  way  brushed  once 
in  a  century  by  a  soft  cloth,  it  would  be  quite 
worn  to  dust  before  the  kalpa  would  close :  or,  as 
some  Christians  believe,  there  may  be  but  six 
thousand  years,  six  days  of  God  in  whose  sight 
"  a  thousand  years  are  as  one  day,"  between 
the  creation  and  the  cremation  of  the  world, 
from  when  it  rose  from  the  waters  until  it  shall 
be  consumed  by  the  fire. 

There  were  also  various  views  about  the 
agents  and  the  completeness  of  these  periodical 
destructions.  In  the  Norse  mythology  and  in 
the  doctrine  of  Buddhism,  not  one  of  the  gods 
can  survive  the  fire  of  the  last  day.  Among 
the  Greeks,  great  Jove  alone  will  await  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  virgin  world  after  the  icy  win- 
ter and  the  fiery  summer  of  the  Great  Year. 
The  Brahmans  hold  that  the  higher  classes 
of  gods  outlive  the  wreck  of  things  which,  at  the 
close  of  the  day  of  Brahm,  involves  all  men  and 
many  divinities  in  elemental  chaos  ;  while  else- 
where, in  the  later  Puranas  and  in  the  myths  of 
Mexico,  Peru,  and  Assyria,  one  or  a  few  of  the 
race  of  man  escape  a  deluge  which  is  universal, 
and  serve  to  people  the  new-made  earth.  This 
latter  supposition,  in  its  application  to  the  last 
epoch  of  nature,  is  the  origin  of  the  myth  of  the 
Flood. 

In  its  general  features  and  even  in  many  de- 
tails, the  story  of  a  vast  overflow  which  drowned 


170  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

the  world,  and  from  which  by  the  timely  succor 
of  divinity  some  man  was  preserved,  and  after  the 
waters  had  subsided  became  the  progenitor  of 
the  race,  is  exceedingly  common  among  distant 
tribes,  where  it  is  impossible  to  explain  it  as  a 
reminiscence  of  a  historic  occurrence,  or  by  com- 
munity of  religious  doctrine.  In  Judea  Noah,  in 
India  Manu,  in  Chaldea  Xisuthrus,  in  Assyria 
Cannes,  in  Aztlan  Nata,  in  Algonkin  tradition 
Messou,  in  Brazil  Monan,  etc.,  are  all  heroes  of 
similar  alleged  occurrences.  In  all  of  them  the 
story  is  but  a  modification  of  that  of  the  creation 
in  time  from  the  primeval  waters.1 

"  As  it  was  once,  so  it  shall  be  again/'  and  as 
the  present  age  of  the  world  wears  out,  the  myth 


1  Many  interesting  references  to  the  Oriental  flood-myth  may 
be  found  in  Cory's  Ancient  Fragments.  See  also,  Dr.  Fr.  Win- 
dischmann,  Die  Ursagen  der  Arisclien  Vii'ker,  pp.  4-10.  It  is 
probable  that  in  very  ancient  Semitic  tradition  Adam  was  re- 
presented as  the  survivor  of  a  flood  anterior  to  that  of  Noah. 
Maimonides  relates  that  the  Sabians  believed  the  world  to  be 
eternal,  and  called  Adam  "the  Prophet  of  the  Moon,"  which 
symbolized,  as  we  know  from  other  sources,  the  deity  of  water. 
Rabbi  Moses  Ben  Maimon,  More  Nevochim,  cap.  iv.  In  early 
Christian  symbolism  Christ  was  called  "the  true  Noah"  ;  the 
dove  accompanied  him  also,  and  as  through  Noah  came  "salva- 
tion by  wood  and  water,"  so  through  Christ  came  "  salvation  by 
spirit  and  water."  (See  St.  Cyril  of  Jerusalem's  Catechetical 
Lectures,  Lent,  xvii.,  cap.  10).  The  fish  (^flu?)  was  the 
symbol  of  Christ  as  well  as  of  Cannes.  As  the  second  coming  of 
Christ  was  to  be  the  destruction  of  the  world,  how  plainly  appear 
the  germs  of  the  myth  of  the  Epochs  of  Nature  in  the  Judaeo- 
Christian  mind ! 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD.  171 

teaches  that  things  will  once  more  fall  back  to  uni- 
versal chaos.  "  The  expectation  of  the  end  of 
the  world  is  a  natural  complement  to  the  belief 
in  its  periodical  destructions."  It  is  taught  with 
distinctness  by  all  religious  systems,  by  the  pro- 
phetess in  the  Voluspa,  by  the  Hebrew  seers/  by 
the  writer  of  the  Apocalypse,  by  the  Eastern 
sages,  Persian  and  Indian,  by  the  Roman  Sibyl, 
and  among  the  savage  and  semi-civilized  races 
of  the  New  World. 

Often  that  looked  for  destruction  was  as- 
sociated with  the  divine  plans  for  man.  This 
was  an  addition  to  the  simplicity  of  the  original 
myth,  but  an  easy  and  a  popular  one.  The  In- 
dian of  our  prairies  still  looks  forward  to  the 
time  when  the  rivers  shall  rise,  and  submerging 
the  land  sweep  from  its  surface  the  pale-faced 
intruders,  and  restore  it  to  its  original  owners. 
Impatient  under  the  ceaseless  disappointments  of 
life,  and  worn  out  with  the  pains  which  seem 
inseparable  from  this  condition  of  things,  the 
believer  gives  up  his  hopes  for  this  world,  and 
losing  his  faith  in  the  final  conquest  of  the  good, 
thinks  it  only  attainable  by  the  total  annihila- 
tion of  the  present  conditions.  He  looks  for  it, 
therefore,  in  the  next  great  age,  in  the  new 

1  Besides  the  expressions  in  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes  and  the 
later  prophets,  the  doctrine  is  distinctly  announced  in  one  of  the 
most  sublime  of  the  Psalms  (xc),  one  attributed  to  "  Moses  the 
Man  of  God." 


172  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

heaven  and  the  new  earth,  when  the  spirit  of 
evil  shall  be  bound  and  shut  up,  and  the  chosen 
people  possess  the  land,  "  and  grow  up  as  calves 
of  the  stall."1 

This  is  to  be  inaugurated  by  the  Day  of 
Judgment,  "the  day  of  wrath,  the  dreadful 
day,"  in  which  God  is  to  come  in  his  power  and 
pronounce  his  final  decrees  on  those  who  have 
neglected  the  observance  due  him.  The  myth, 
originally  one  relating  to  the  procession  of  natural 
forces,  thus  assumed  with  the  increasing  depth 
of  the  religious  sentiment  more  and  more  a  moral 
and  subjective  coloring,  until  finally  its  old  and 
simple  form  was  altogether  discarded,  or  treated 
as  symbolic  only. 

The  myth  of  the  Epochs  of  Nature  was  at 
first  a  theory  to  account  for  the  existing  order 
of  nature.  For  a  long  time  it  satisfied  the  in- 
quiring mind,  if  not  with  a  solution  at  least  with 
an  answer  to  its  queries.  After  geologic  science 
had  learned  to  decipher  the  facts  of  the  world's 
growth  as  written  on  the  stones  which  orb  it,  the 
religious  mind  fondly  identified  the  upheavals 
and  cataclysms  there  recorded  with  those  which 
its  own  fancy  had  long  since  fabricated.  The 
stars  and  suns,  which  the  old  seer  thought  would 
fall  from  heaven  in  the  day  of  wrath,  were  seen 
to  be  involved  in  motions  far  beyond  the  pale  of 

i  Malachi,  ch.  iv.,  v.  2. 


MAN'S  FOLLY.  173 

man's  welfare,  and,  therefore,  the  millennial 
change  was  confined  to  the  limits  of  our  planet. 
Losing  more  and  more  of  its  original  form  as  an 
attempted  explanation  of  natural  phenomena, 
the  myth  now  exists  in  civilized  nations  as  an 
allegorical  type  of  man's  own  history  and  des- 
tiny, and  thus  is  slowly  merging  into  an  episode 
of  the  second  great  cycle  of  the  mythus,  that  of 
the  Paradise  lost  and  regained.  It,  too,  finds  its 
interpretation  in  psychology. 

Broadly  surveying  the  life  of  man,  philoso- 
phers have  found  in  it  much  matter  fit  either  for 
mockery  or  tears.  We  are  born  with  a  thirst 
for  pleasure  ;  we  learn  that  pain  alone  is  felt. 
We  ask  health;  and  having  it,  never  notice  it 
till  it  is  gone.  In  the  ardent  pursuit  of  enjoy- 
ment, we  waste  our  capacity  of  appreciation. 
Every  sweet  we  gain  is  sauced  with  a  bitter. 
Our  eyes  forever  bent  on  the  future,  which  can 
never  be  ours,  we  fritter  away  the  present,  which 
alone  we  possess.  Ere  we  have  got  ourselves 
ready  to  live,  we  must  die.  Fooling  ourselves 
even  here,  we  represent  death  as  the  portal  to 
joy  unspeakable ;  and  forthwith  discredit  our 
words  by  avoiding  it  in  every  possible  way. 

Pitiable  spectacle  of  weakness  and  folly,  is 
it  capable  of  any  explanation  which  can  redeem 
man  from  the  imputation  of  unreason  ?  Is 
Wisdom  even  here  justified  of  her  children  by 
some  deeper  law  of  being  ? 


174  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

The  theologian  explains  it  as  the  unrest  of 
the  soul  penned  in  its  house  of  clay ;  the  phy- 
siologist attributes  it  to  the  unceasing  effort  of 
organic  functions  to  adapt  themselves  to  ever 
varying  external  conditions.  They  are  both 
right,  for  the  theologian,  were  his  words  trans- 
lated into  the  language  of  science,  refers  to  the 
effort  to  adapt  condition  to  function,  wrhich  is  the 
peculiar  faculty  of  intelligence,  and  which  alone 
renders  man  unable  to  accept  the  comfort  of 
merely  animal  existence,  an  inability  which  he 
need  never  expect  to  outlive,  for  it  will  increase 
in  exact  proportion  to  his  mental  development. 
Action,  not  rest,  as  I  have  elsewhere  said,  must 
be  his  ideal  of  life. 

In  even  his  lowest  levels  man  experiences  this 
dissatisfaction.  It  may  there  be  confined  to  a 
pain  he  would  be  free  from,  or  a  pleasure  he 
dreams  of.  Always  the  future  charms  him,  and  as 
advancing  years  increase  the  number  of  his  dis- 
appointments and  bring  with  them  the  pains  of 
decrepitude,  he  also  recurs  to  the  past,  when 
youth  was  his,  and  the  world  was  bright  and  gay. 
Thus  it  comes  that  most  nations  speak  of  some 
earlier  period  of  their  history  as  -one  character- 
ized by  purer  public  virtues  than  the  present, 
one  when  the  fires  of  patriotism  burned  brighter 
and  social  harmony  was  more  conspicuous.  In 
rude  stages  of  society  this  fancy  receives  real 
credit  and  ranks  as  a  veritable  record  of  the  past, 


THE  PARADISE  LOST.  175 

forming  a  Golden  Age  or  Saturnian  Era.  Turned 
in  the  kaleidoscope  of  the  my  thus,  it  assumes 
yet  more  gorgeous  hues,  and  becomes  a  state  of 
pure  felicity,  an  Eden  or  a  Paradise,  wherein  man 
dwelt  in  joy,  and  from  which  he  wandered  or  was 
driven  in  the  old  days. 

It  is  almost  needless  to  quote  examples  to 
show  the  wide  distribution  of  this  myth.  The 
first  pages  of  the  Yendidad  describe  the  reign  of 
Yima  in  "  the  garden  of  delight,"  where  "  there 
was  no  cold  wind  nor  violent  heat,  no  disease  and 
no  death."  The  northern  Buddhist  tells  of  "  the 
land  of  joy,"  Sukhavati,  in  the  far  west,  where 
ruled  Amitabha,  "  infinite  Light."1  The  Edda 
wistfully  recalls  the  pleasant  days  of  good  King 
Gudmuiid  who  once  held  sway  in  Odainsakr, 
where  death  came  not.2  Persian  story  has  glad 
reminiscences  of  the  seven  hundred  years  that 
Jemschid  sat  on  the  throne  of  Iran,  when  peace 
and  plenty  were  in  the  land. 

The  garden  "  eastward  in  Eden  "  of  the  Pen- 
tateuch, the  land  of  Tulan  or  Tlapallan  in  Aztec 
myth,  the  islands  of  the  Hesperides,  the  rose 
garden  of  Feridun,  and  a  score  of  other  legends 
attest  with  what  strong  yearning  man  seeks  in 

1  C.  F.  Koppen,  Die  Lamaische  Hierarchie,  s.  28. 

2  Odainsakr,  6  privative,  dain  death,  akr  land,"  the  land  of  im- 
mortal life."     Saxo  Grammaticus  speaks  of  it  also.     Another 
such  land  faintly  referred  to  in  the  Edda  is  Breidablick,  governed 
by  Baldur,  the  Light-god. 


176  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

the  past  the  picture  of  that  perfect  felicity  which 
the  present  never  yields. 

Nor  can  he  be  persuaded  that  the  golden  age 
has  gone,  no  more  to  return.  In  all  conditions 
of  progress,  and  especially  where  the  load  of  the 
present  was  the  most  wearying,  has  he  counted 
on  a  restoration  to  that  past  felicity.  The  paradise 
lost  is  to  be  regained.  How  it  is  to  be  done  the 
sages  are  not  agreed.  But  they  of  old  were 
unanimous  that  some  divinity  must  lend  his  aid, 
that  some  god-sent  guide  is  needed  to  rescue 
man  from  the  slough  of  wretchedness  in  which 
he  hopelessly  struggles. 

Therefore  in  the  new  world  the  red  men 
looked  for  the  ruler  who  had  governed  their 
happy  forefathers  in  the  golden  age,  and  who  had 
not  died  but  withdrawn  mysteriously  from  view, 
to  return  to  them,  protect  them,  and  insure  them 
long  bliss  and  ease.  The  ancient  Persians  ex- 
pected as  much  from  the  coming  of  Craoshanc, ; 
the  Thibetan  Buddhists  look  to  the  advent  of  a 
Buddha  5000  years  after  Sakyamuni,  one  whose 
fortunate  names  are  Maitreya,  the  Loving  one,  and 
Adjita,  the  Unconquerable;1  and  even  the  prac- 
tical Roman,  as  we  learn  from  Yirgil,  was  not  a 
stranger  to  this  dream.  Very  many  nations  felt 
it  quite  as  strongly  as  the  Israelites,  who  from 
early  time  awaited  a  mighty  king,  the  Messiah, 
the  Anointed,  of  whom  the  Targums  say :  "  In  his 

1  C.  F.  Koppen,  Die  Lamaische  Hierarchie  und  Kirche,  p.  17. 


THE  PARADISE  TO  COME.  177 

days  shall  peace  be  multiplied ;  "  "  He  shall  exe- 
cute the  judgment  of  truth  and  justice  on  the 
earth;  "  "  He  shall  rule  over  all  kingdoms." 

The  early  forms  of  this  conception,  such  as 
here  referred  to,  looked  forward  to  an  earthly 
kingdom,  identified  with  that  of  the  past  when 
this  was  vigorous  in  the  national  mythology. 
Material  success  and  the  utmost  physical  com- 
fort were  to  characterize  it.  It  was  usually  to 
be  a  national  apotheosis,  and  wras  not  generally 
supposed  to  include  the  human  race,  though 
traces  of  this  wider  view  might  easily  be  quoted 
from  Avestan,  Roman,  and  Israelitic  sources. 
Those  who  were  to  enjoy  it  were  not  the  dead, 
but  those  who  shall  be  living. 

As  the  myth  grew,  it  coalesced  with  that  of 
the  Epochs  of  Nature,  and  assumed  grander  pro- 
portions. The  deliverer  was  to  come  at  the  close  of 
this  epoch,  at  the  end  of  the  world  ;  he  was  to 
embrace  the  whole  human  kind  in  his  kingdom  ; 
even  those  who  died  before  his  coming,  if  they 
had  obeyed  his  mandates,  should  rise  to  join  the 
happy  throng  ;  instead  of  a  mere  earthly  king, 
he  should  be  a  supernatural  visitant,  even  God 
himself  ;  and  instead  of  temporal  pleasures  only, 
others  of  a  spiritual  character  were  to  be  con- 
ferred. There  are  reasons  to  believe  that  even 
in  this  developed  form  the  myth  was  familiar  to 
the  most  enlightened  worshippers  of  ancient 
Egypt ;  but  it  was  not  till  some  time  after  the 


178  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

doctrines  of  Christianity  had  been  cast  into 
mythical  moulds  by  the  oriental  fancy,  that  it 
was  introduced  in  its  completed  form  to  modern 
thought.  Although  expressly  repudiated  by 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  himself,  and  applied  in  maxim 
and  parable  as  a  universal  symbol  of  intelligence 
to  the  religious  growth  of  the  individual  and  race, 
his  followers  reverted  to  the  coarser  and  literal 
meaning,  and  ever  since  teach  to  a  greater  or  less 
extent  the  chiliastic  or  millennial  dogma,  often 
mathematically  computing,  in  direct  defiance  of 
his  words,  the  exact  date  that  event  is  to  be 
expected. 

If  we  ask  the  psychological  construction  of 
this  myth,  and  the  ever  present  conditions  of 
man's  life  which  have  rendered  him  always  ready 
to  create  it  and  loath  to  renounce  it,  we  trace  the 
former  distinctly  to  his  sense  of  the  purposive 
nature  of  the  laws  of  thought,  and  the  latter  to 
the  wide  difference  between  desire  and  fulfilment. 
His  intellectual  nature  is  framed  to  accord  with 
laws  which  are  ever  present  but  are  not  author- 
itative ;  they  admonish  but  they  do  not  coerce  ; 
that  is  done  surely  though  oft  remotely  by  the 
consequences  of  their  violation.  At  first,  una- 
ware of  the  true  character  of  these  laws,  he 
fancies  that  if  he  w^ere  altogether  comfortable 
physically,  his  every  wish  would  be  gratified. 
Slowly  it  dawns  upon  him  that  no  material  grat- 
ification can  supply  an  intellectual  craving ;  that 


THE  MILLENNIUM.  179 

this  is  the  real  want  which  haunts  him  ;  and  that 
its  only  satisfaction  is  to  think  rightly,  to  learn 
the  truth.  Then  he  sees  that  the  millennial  king- 
dom is  "  not  of  this  world  ;."  that  heaven  and 
earth  may  pass  away,  but  that  such  truth  as  he 
seeks  cannot  pass  away ;  and  that  his  first  and 
only  care  should  be  as  a  faithful  and  wise  servant 
to  learn  and  revere  it. 

The  sentiments  which  created  this  mythical 
cycle,  based  as  they  are  now  seen  to  be  on  ultimate 
psychological  laws,  are  as  active  to-day  as  ever. 
This  century  has  witnessed  the  rise  of  a  school 
of  powerful  thinkers  and  true  philanthropists  who 
maintained  that  the  noblest  object  is  the  securing 
to  our  fellow-men  the  greatest  material  comfort 
possible  ;  that  the  religious  aspirations  will  do 
well  to  content  themselves  with  this  gospel  of 
humanity  ;  and  that  the  approach  of  the  material 
millennium,  the  perfectibility  of  the  human  race, 
the  complete  adaptation  of  function  to  condition, 
the  "  distant  but  not  uncertain  final  victory  of 
Good,":  is  susceptible  of  demonstration.  At 
present,  these  views  are  undergoing  modification. 
It  is  perceived  with  more  or  less  distinctness  that 
complete  physical  comfort  is  not  enough  to  make 
a  man  happy ;  that  in  proportion  as  this  comfort 
is  attained  new  wants  develope  themselves,  quite 
as  importunate,  which  ask  what  material  com- 

i  John  Stuart  Mill,  Theism,  p.  256. 


180  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

fort  cannot  give,  and  whose  demand  is  neither  for 
utility  nor  pleasurable  sensation.  Such  wants  are 
created  by  the  sense  of  duty  and  the  love  of  truth. 
The  main  difference  between  the  latest 
exponents  of  the  utilitarian  doctrines  and  the 
heralds  of  distinctively  religious  thought,  is  that 
the  former  consider  that  it  is  most  important  in 
the  present  condition  of  man  for  him  to  look 
after  his  material  welfare  ;  while  the  latter  teach 
that  if  he  first  subject  thought  and  life  to  truth 
and  duty, "all  these  things  will  be  added  unto  him." 
Wordsworth  has  cast  this  latter  opinion,  and  the 
myths  which  are  its  types,  into  eloquent  verse  : 

"  Paradise  and  groves 

Elysian,  Fortunate  Fields — like  those  of  old 
Sought  in  the  Atlantic  main,  why  should  they  be 
A  history  only  of  departed  things, 
Or  a  mere  fiction  of  what  never  was  ? 
For  the  discerning  intellect  of  man, 
When  wedded  to  this  goodly  universe 
In  love  and  holy  passion,  shall  find  these 
A  simple  produce  of  the  common  day." 

The  incredulity  and  even  derision  with  which 
the  latter  doctrine  is  received  by  "  practical  men," 
should  not  affright  the  collected  thinker,  as  it 
certainly  is  not  so  chimerical  as  they  pretend. 
The  writer  De  Senancourt,  not  at  all  of  a  religious 
turn,  in  speculating  on  the  shortest  possible  road 
to  general  happiness,  concluded  that  if  we  were 
able  to  foretell  the  weather  a  reasonable  time 
ahead,  and  if  men  would  make  it  a  rule  to  speak 
the  truth  as  near  as  they  can,  these  two  conditions 


THE  HIERARCHY  OF  THE  GODS.  181 

would  remove  nine-tenths  of  the  misery  in  the 
world.  The  more  carefully  I  meditate  on  this 
speculation,  the  better  grounded  it  seems.  The 
weather  we  are  learning  to  know  much  more 
about  than  when  the  solitary  Obermann  penned 
his  despondent  dreams ;  but  who  shall  predict 
the  time  when  men  will  tell  the  truth? 

I  now  pass  to  the  third  great  mythical  cyclus, 
which  I  have  called  that  of  the  Hierarchy  of  the 
Gods.  This  was  created  in  order  to  define  that 
unknown  power  which  was  supposed  to  give  to 
the  wish  frustration  or  fruition.  It  includes 
every  statement  in  reference  to  the  number, 
nature,  history  and  character  of  supernatural 
beings. 

The  precise  form  under  which  the  intellect, 
when  the  religious  conception  of  unknown  power 
first  dawns  upon  it,  imagines  this  unknown,  is 
uncertain.  Some  have  maintained  that  the 
earliest  religions  are  animal  worships,  others  that 
the  spirits  of  ancestors  or  chiefs  are  the  primitive 
gods.  Local  divinities  and  personal  spirits  are 
found  in  the  rudest  culture,wiiile  simple  f etichism, 
or  the  vague  shapes  presented  by  dreams,  play  a 
large  part  in  the  most  inchoate  systems.  The 
prominence  of  one  or  the  other  of  these  elements 
depends  upon  local  and  national  momenta,  which 
are  a  proper  study  for  the  science  of  mythology, 
but  need  not  detain  us  here.  The  underlying 
principle  in  all  these  conceptions  of  divinity  is 


182  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

that  of  the  res  per  accidens,  an  accidental  rela- 
tion of  the  thought  to  the  symbol,  not  a  general 
or  necessary  one.  This  is  seen  in  the  nature  of 
these  primitive  gods.  They  have  no  decided 
character  as  propitious  or  the  reverse  other  than 
the  objects  they  typify,  but  are  supposed  to  send 
bad  or  good  fortune  as  they  happen  to  be  pleased 
or  displeased  with  the  votary.  No  classification  as 
good  and  evil  deities  is  as  yet  perceptible. 

This  undeveloped  stage  of  religious  thought 
faded  away,  as  general  conceptions  of  man  and 
his  surroundings  arose.  Starting  always  from 
his  wish  dependent  on  unknown  control,  man 
found  certain  phenomena  usually  soothed  his  fears 
and  favored  his  wishes,  while  others  interfered 
with  their  attainment  and  excited  his  alarm.  This 
distinction,  directly  founded  on  his  sensations  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  led  to  a  general,  more  or  less 
rigid,  classification  of  the  unknown,  into  two  op- 
posing classes  of  beings,  the  one  kindly  disposed, 
beneficent,  good,  the  other  untoward,  maleficent, 
evil. 

At  first  this  distinction  had  in  it  nothing  of  a 
moral  character.  It  is  in  fact  a  long  time  before 
this  is  visible,  and  to-day  but  two  or  three 
religions  acknowledge  it  even  theoretically.  All, 
however,  which  claim  historical  position  set  up  a 
dual  hierarchy  in  the  divine  realms.  Ahura- 
mazda  and  Anya-mainyus,  God  and  Satan,  Jove 
and  Pluto,  Pachacamac  and  Supay,  Enigorio  and 


MA  AND  PAPAS.  183 

Enigohatgea  are  examples  out  of  hundreds  that 
might  be  adduced. 

The  fundamental  contrast  of  pleasure  and 
pain  might  be  considered  enough  to  explain  this 
duality.  But  in  fact  it  is  even  farther  reaching. 
The  emotions  are  dual  as  well  as  the  sensations, 
as  we  have  seen  in  the  first  chapter.  All  the 
operations  of  the  intellect  are  dichotomic,  and  in 
mathematical  logic  must  be  expressed  by  an 
equation  of  the  second  degree.  Subject  and 
object  must  be  understood  as  polar  pairs,  and  in 
physical  science  polarization,  contrast  of  proper- 
ties corresponding  to  contrast  of  position,  is  a 
universal  phenomenon.  Analogy,  therefore,  vin- 
dicates the  assumption  that  the  unknown,  like 
the  known,  is -the  field  of  the  operation  of  con- 
tradictory powers. 

A  variety  of  expression  is  given  this  philoso- 
phic notion  in  myths.  In  Egypt,  Syria,  Greece 
and  India  the  contrast  was  that  of  the  sexes,  the 
male  and  female  principles  as  displayed  in  the 
operations  of  nature.  The  type  of  all  is  that 
very  ancient  Phrygian  cult  in  which  by  the  side 
of  Ma,  mother  of  mountains  and  mistress  of 
herds,  stood  Papas,  father  of  the  race  of  shep- 
herds and  inventor  of  the  rustic  pipe.1  Quite 
characteristic  was  the  classification  of  the  gods 
worshipped  by  the  miners  and  metal  workers 
of  Phrygian  Ida.  This  was  into  right  and  left, 

Creuzer,  Symbolik  und  Mytlwlogie,  Bd.  II.,  s.  47 


181  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

and  the  general  name  of  Dactyli,  Fingers,  was 
given  them.  The  right  gods  broke  the  spells 
which  the  left  wove,  the  right  pointed  out  the 
ore  which  the  left  had  buried,  the  right  dis- 
closed the  remedies  for  the  sickness  which  the 
left  had  sent.  This  venerable  division  is  still 
retained  when  we  speak  of  a  sinister  portent,  or 
a  right  judgment.  It  is  of  physiological  interest 
as  showing  that "  dextral  pre-eminence  "  or  right- 
handedness  was  prevalent  in  earliest  historic 
times,  though  it  is  unknown  in  any  lower  animal. 

The  thoughtful  dwellers  in  Farsistan  also 
developed  a  religion  close  to  man's  wants  by 
dividing  the  gods  into  those  who  aid  and  thoso 
who  harm  him,  subject  the  one  class  to  Ahura- 
Mazda,  the  other  to  Anya-Mainyus.  Early  in 
their  history  this  assumed  almost  a  moral  aspect, 
and  there  is  little  to  be  added  to  one  of  the  most 
ancient  precepts  of  their  law — "  Happiness  ba 
to  the  man  who  conduces  to  the  happiness  of 
all."  l 

When  this  dual  classification  sought  expres- 
sion through  natural  contrasts,  there  was  ono 
which  nigh  everywhere  offered  itself  as  the 
most  appropriate.  The  savage,  the  nomad,  lim- 
ited to  the  utmost  in  artificial  contrivances,  met 
nothing  which  more  signally  aided  the  accom- 

i  This  is  the  first  line  of  Yagna,  42,  of  the  KkordaJi-A  vesta. 
The  Parsees  believe  that  it  is  the  salutation  which  msets  the 
soul  of  the  good  on  entering  the  next  world. 


THE  GOD  OF  LIGHT.  185 

plishment  of  his  wishes  than  light;  nothing  which 
more  certainly  frustrated  them  than  darkness. 
From  these  two  sources  flow  numerous  myths, 
symbols,  and  rites,  as  narratives  or  acts  which 
convey  religious  thought  to  the  eye  or  the  ear 
of  sense. 

As  the  bringers  of  light,  man  adored  the  sun, 
the  dawn,  and  lire  ;  associated  with  warmth  and 
spring,  his  further  meditations  saw  in  it  the  source 
of  his  own  and  of  all  life,  and  led  him  to  connect 
with  its  worship  that  of  the  reproductive  prin- 
ciple. As  it  comes  from  above,  and  seems  to 
dwell  in  the  far-off  sky,  he  located  there  his 
good  gods,  and  lifted  his  hands  or  his  eyes  when 
he  prayed.  As  light  is  necessary  to  sight,  and 
as  to  see  is  to  know,  the  faculty  of  knowing  was 
typified  as  enlightenment,  an  inward  god-given 
light.  The  great  and  beneficent  deities  are  al- 
ways the  gods  of  light.  Their  names  often  show 
this.  Deva,  Deus,  means  the  shining  one ; 
Michabo,  the  great  white  one ;  the  Mongols  call 
Tien,  the  chief  Turanian  god,  the  bright  one,  the 
luminous  one  ;  the  northern  Buddhist  prays  to 
Amitabha,  Infinite  Light;  and  the  Christian  to 
the  Light  of  the  World.  * 

On  the  other  hand,  darkness  was  connected 
with  feelings  of  helplessness  and  terror.  It  ex- 
posed him  to  attacks  of  wild  beasts  and  all  ac- 
cidents. It  was  the  precursor  of  the  storm.  It 
was  like  to  death  and  the  grave.  The  realm 


186  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

of  the  departed  ^was  supposed  to  be  a  land  of 
shadows,  an  underground  region,  an  unseeing 
Hades  or  hell. 

The  task  would  be  easy  to  show  many  strange 
corroborations  of  these  early  chosen  symbols  by 
the  exacter  studies  of  later  ages.  Light,  as  the 
indispensable  condition  of  life,  is  no  dream,  but 
a  fact ;  sight  is  the  highest  sentient  faculty ;  and 
the  luminous  rays  are  real  intellectual  stimu- 
lants.1 But  such  reflections  will  not  escape  the 
contemplative  reader. 

I  hasten  to  an  important  consequence  of  this 
dual  classification  of  divinities.  It  led  to  what 
I  may  call  the  quantification  of  the  yods,  that  is, 
to  conceiving  divinity  under  notions  of  number 
or  quantity,  a  step  which  has  led  to  profound 
deterioration  of  the  religious  sentiment.  I  do 
not  mean  by  this  the  distinction  between  poly- 
theism and  monotheism.  The  latter  is  as  untrue 
and  as  injurious  as  the  former,  nor  does  it  con- 
tain a  whit  the  more  the  real  elements  of  reli- 
gious progress. 

It  is  indeed  singular  that  this  subject  has 
been  so  misunderstood.  Much  has  been  written 
by  Christian  theologians  to  show  the  superiority 
of  monotheisms;  and  by  their  opponents  much 


1  "  Sight  is  the  light  sense.  Through  it  we  become  ac- 
quainted with  universal  relations,  this  being  reason.  Without 
the  eye  there  would  be  no  reason."  Lorenz  Oken,  Elements  of 
Physio  -  Philosophy,  p.  475. 


MONO  THEISMS.  187 

has  been  made  of  Comte's  loi  des  trois  etats, 
which  defines  religious  progress  to  be  first  fet- 
ichism,  secondly  polytheism,  finally  monotheism. 
Of  this  Mr.  Lewes  says :  "  The  theological  system 
arrived  at  the  highest  perfection  of  which  it  is 
capable  when  it  substituted  the  providential  ac- 
tion of  a  single  being,  for  the  varied  operations 
of  the  numerous  divinities  which  had  before  been 
imagined."1  Nothing  could  be  more  erroneous 
than  the  spirit  of  this  statement ;  nothing  is  more 
correct,  if  the  ordinary  talk  of  the  superiority 
of  monotheism  in  religion  be  admitted. 

History  and  long  experience  show  that  mon- 
otheistic religions  have  no  special  good  effect 
either  on  the  morals  or  the  religious  sensibility 
of  races.2  Buddhism,3  Mohammedanism  and  Ju- 
daism are,  at  least  in  theory,  uncompromising 
monotheisms ;  modern  Christianity  is  less  so,  as 
many  Catholics  pray  to  the  Virgin  and  Saints, 
and  many  Protestants  to  Christ.  So  long  as  the 
mathematical  conception  of  number,  whether 
one  or  many,  is  applied  to  deity  by  a  theological 
system,  it  has  not  yet  "  arrived  at  the  highest 
perfection  of  which  it  is  capable." 

For  let  us  inquire  what  a  monotheism  is  ?  It 

1  History  of  Philosophy,  Vol.  II.  p.  638  (4th  ed.) 

2  "  The  intolerance  of  almost  all  religions  which  have  main- 
tained the  unity  of  God,  is  as  remarkable  as  the  contrary  prin- 
ciple in  polytheism."   Hume,  Nat.  Hist,  of  Religion,  Sec.  ix. 

3  "  The  Lamas  emphatically  maintain  monotheism  to  be  the 
real  character  of  Buddhism."     Emil  Schlagintweit,  Buddhism 
in  Tibet,  p.  108. 


183  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

is  a  belief  in  one  god  as  distinct  from  the  belief 
in  several  gods.  In  other  words,  it  applies  to 
God  the  mathematical  concept  of  unity,  a  concept 
which  can  only  come  into  cognition  by  virtue 
of  contrasts  and  determinations,  and  which  forces 
therefore  the  believer  either  to  Pantheism  or 
anthropomorphism  to  reconcile  his  belief  with 
his  reason.  No  other  resource  is  left  him.  With 
monotheism  there  must  always  be  the  idea  of 
numerical  separateness,  which  is  incompatible 
with  universal  conceptions. 

Let  him,  however,  clear  his  mind  of  the  cur- 
rent admiration  for  monotheisms,  and  impress 
upon  himself  that  he  who  would  form  a  concep- 
tion of  supreme  intelligence  must  do  so  under  the 
rules  of  pure  thought,  not  numerical  relation. 
The  logical,  not  the  mathematical,  unity  of  the 
divine  is  the  perfection  of  theological  reasoning. 
Logical  unity  does  not  demand  a  determination 
by  contrasts  ;  it  conveys  only  the  idea  of  iden- 
tity with  self.  As  the  logical  attainment  of 
truth  is  the  recognition  of  identities  in  apparent 
diversity,  thus  leading  from  the  logically  many 
to  the  logically  one,  the  assumption  of  the  latter 
is  eminently  justified.  Every  act  of  reasoning 
is  an  additional  proof  of  it.1 

1  No  one  has  seen  the  error  here  pointed  out,  and  its  injuri- 
ous results  on  thought,  more  clearly  than  Comte  himself.  He 
is  emphatic  in  condemning  "  le  tendance  mvolontaire  k  consti- 
tuer  1'unite  speculative  par  1'ascendant  universel  des  plus  gros- 
si&res  contemplations  numerique,  geometrique  ou  mecaniques." 


THE  DELUSION  OF  OPPOSITE S.  189 

Nor  does  the  duality  of  nature  and  thought, 
to  which  I  have  alluded,  in  any  wise  contradict 
this.  In  pure  thought  we  must  understand  the 
dichotomic  process  to  be  the  distinction  of  a 
positive  by  a  privative,  both  logical  elements 
of  the  same  thought,  as  I  have  elsewhere  shown. 
The  opposites  or  contraries  referred  to  as  giv- 
ing rise  to  the  dualistic  conceptions  of  divini- 
ty are  thus  readily  harmonized  with  the  concep- 
tion of  logical  unity.  This  was  recognized  by 
the  Hindoo  sage  who  composed  the  Bhagavad 
Gita,  early  in  our  era.  Krishna,  the  Holy  One, 
addressing  the  King  Ardjuna  says :  "  All  beings 
fall  into  error  as  to  the  nature  of  creation,  0 
Bharata,  by  reason  of  that  delusion  of  natural 
opposites  which  springs  from  liking  and  disliking, 
oh  thou  tormentor  of  thy  foes  !  "  1 

The  substitution  of  the  conception  of  mathe- 
matical for  logical  unity  in  this  connection  has 
left  curious  traces  in  both  philosophy  and  reli- 
gion. It  has  led  to  a  belief  in  the  triplicate  nature 
of  the  supreme  Being,  and  to  those  philosophical 
triads  which  have  often  attracted  thinkers,  from 
Pythagoras  and  Heraclitus  down  to  Hegel  and 
Ghiberti. 

Pythagoras,  who  had  thought  profoundly  on 

Sys'eme  de  Politique  Positive;  Tome  I.,  p.  51.     But  he  was  too 
biassed  to  apply  this  warning  to  Christian  thought.     The   con- 
ception of  the  Universe  in  the  lo«ic  of  Professor  De  Morgan  and 
Boole  is  an  example  of  speculative  unity. 
1  Bhagavad  Gttd.  ch.  iv. 


190  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

numbers  and  their  relations,  is  credited  with  the 
obscure  maxim  that  every  thought  is  made  up  of 
a  definite  one  and  an  indefinite  two  (a  /was  and  an 
aoptffroz  duas).  Some  of  his  commentators  have 
added  to  rather  than  lessened  the  darkness  of 
this  saying.  But  applied  to  concrete  number,  it 
seems  clear  enough.  Take  any  number,  ten, 
for  example,  and  it  is  ten  by  virtue  of  being  a 
one,  one  ten,  and  because  on  either  side  counting 
upward  or  downward,  a  different  number  ap- 
pears, which  two  are  its  logical  determinants, 
but,  as  not  expressed,  make  up  an  indefinite 
two. 

So  the  number  one,  thought  as  concrete 
unity,  is  really  a  trinity,  made  up  of  its  definite  self 
and  its  indefinite  next  greater  and  lesser  deter- 
minants. The  obscure  consciousness  of  this  has 
made  itself  felt  in  many  religions  when  they  have 
progressed  to  a  certain  plane  of  thought.  The 
ancient  Egyptian  gods  were  nearly  all  triune  ; 
Phanes,  in  the  Orphic  hymns  the  first  principle 
of  things,  was  tripartite ;  the  Indian  trinities  are 
well  known ;  the  Celtic  triads  applied  to  divine 
as  well  as  human  existence ;  the  Jews  distin- 
guished between  Jehovah,  his  Wisdom  and  his 
Word  ;  and  in  Christian  religion  and  philosophy 
the  doctrine  of  the  trinity,  though  nowhere 
taught  by  Christ,  has  found  a  lasting  foothold, 
and  often  presents  itself  as  an  actual  tri theism.1 

1  See  the  introduction  by  Mr.  J.  W.  Etheridge  to   The  Tar- 


TRINITIES.  191 

The  triplicate  nature  of  number,  thus  alluded 
to  by  Pythagoras,  springs  from  the  third  law  of 
thought,  and  holds  true  of  all  concrete  notions. 
Every  such  notion  stands  in  necessary  relation  to 
its  privative,  and  to  the  logical  concept  of  next 
greater  extension,  i.  e.,  that  which  includes  the 
notion  and  its  privative,  as  I  explained  in  the 
first  chapter.  This  was  noted  by  the  early  Pla- 
tonists,  who  describe  a  certain  concrete  expression 
of  it  as  "  the  intelligential  triad ; "  and  it  has 
been  repeatedly  commented  upon  by  later  phi- 
losophers, some  of  whom  avowedly  derive  from  it 
the  proof  of  the  trinitarian  dogma  as  formulated  by 
Athanasius.  Even  modern  mathematical  inves- 
tigations have  been  supposed  to  point  to  a  Deus 
triformis,  though  of  course  quite  another  one 
from  that  which  ancient  Rome  honored.  A  late 
work  of  much  ability  makes  the  statement :  "  The 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  or  something  analogous 
to  it,  forms,  as  it  were,  the  avenue  through  which 
the  universe  itself  leads  us  up  to  the  conception 
of  the  Infinite  and  Eternal  One."  The  explana- 

gums  of  Onkelos  and  Jonathan  Ben  Uzziel  (London,  1862).  St. 
Augustine  believed  the  trinity  is  referred  to  in  the  opening  verses 
of  Genesis.  Confessiones,  Lib.  xiii.  cap.  5.  The  early  Christian 
writer,  Theophilus  of  Antioch  (circa  225),  in  his  Apologia,  rec- 
ognizes the  Jewish  trinity  only.  It  was  a  century  later  that  the 
dogma  was  denned  in  its  Athanasian  form.  See  further,  Isaac 
Preston  Cory,  Ancient  Fragments,  with  an  Inquiry  into  the  Trinity 
of  the  Gentiles  (London,  1832). 
1  The  Unseen  Universe,  p.  194. 


192  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

tion  of  this  notion  is  the  same  as  that  of  the 
"  Trinity  of  the  Gentiles/'  always  hitherto  a 
puzzling  mythological  concept. 

For  reasons  previously  given,  an  analysis  of 
the  formal  law  itself  does  not  yield  these  ele- 
ments. They  belong  to  a  certain  class  of  values 
assigned  it,  not  to  the  law  itself ;  hence  it  is 
only  when  deity  is  conceived  under  the  con- 
ditions of  numerical  oneness  that  the  tripartite 
constitution  of  a  whole  number  makes  itself  felt, 
and  is  applied  to  the  divine  nature. 

The  essence  of  a  logical  unit  is  identity,  of 
a  mathematical,  difference.  The  qualities  of  the 
latter  are  limitations — so  much  of  a  thing  ;  those 
of  the  former  are  coincidences — that  kind  of  a 
thing. 

To  be  sure  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  free  our- 
selves from  the  habit  of  confounding  identity 
and  individuality.  We  must  cultivate  a  much 
greater  familiarity  with  the  forms  of  thought, 
and  the  character  of  universals,  than  e very-day 
life  requires  of  us,  before  the  distinction  grows 
facile.  The  individual,  not  the  species,  exists  ; 
our  own  personality,  our  thinking  faculty  is 
what  we  are  most  certain  of.  On  it  rests  the 
reality  of  everything,  the  Unknown  as  well.  But 
the  rejection  of  a  mathematical  unity  does  not 
at  all  depreciate  the  force  of  such  an  argument. 
Individuality  regarded  as  mathematical  unity 
rests  on  the  deeper  law  of  logical  identity  from 


MAN  AS  GOD.  193 

which  the  validity  of  numbers  rises ;  it  is  not  the 
least  diminished,  but  intensified,  in  the  concep- 
tion of  a  Supreme  Intelligence,  as  the  font  of 
truth,  though  the  confinements  and  limitations 
of  the  mathematical  unit  fall  away,  and  all  con- 
trasts disappear. 

The  reverse  conception,  however,  has  prevailed 
in  religious  systems,  polytheistic  or  monotheis- 
tic. Man  has  projected  on  the  cloudy  unknown 
the  magnified  picture  of  his  own  individuality 
and  shuddered  with  terror  at  the  self-created 
plantasm,  like  the  peasant  frightened  by  the  spec- 
tre of  the  Brocken,  formed  by  the  distorted  image 
of  himself.  In  his  happier  moments,  with  his 
hopes  gratified,  the  same  vice  of  thought,  still 
active,  prevented  him  from  conceiving  any 
higher  ideal  than  his  better  self.  "  Everywhere 
the  same  tendency  was  observed  ;  the  gods,  al- 
ways exaggerations  of  human  power  and  passions, 
became  more  and  more  personifications  of  what 
was  most  admirable  and  lovable  in  human  nature, 
till  in  Christianity  there  emerged  the  avowed 
ideal  man."  What  could  it  end  in  but  anthropo- 
morphism, or  pantheism,  or,  rejecting  both,  a 
Keligion  of  Humanity,  with  a  background  of  an 
imbecile  Unknowable  ? 

Is  it  necessary  to  point  out  how  none  of  these 
conclusions  can  satisfy  the  enlightened  religious 
sentiment  ?  How  anthropomorphism,which  makes 

God  in  the  image  of  man,  instead  of  acknowledg- 

13 


194  THE  EELIG10US  SENTIMENT. 

ing  that  man  is  made  in  the  image  of  God, 
belittles  divinity  to  a  creature  of  passions  and 
caprices  ?  How  pantheism,  increasing  God  at 
the  expense  of  man,  wipes  out  the  fundamental 
difference  of  true  and  false,  calls  bad  "  good 
in  the  making,"  and  virtually  extinguishes  the 
sense  of  duty  and  the  permanence  of  personal- 
ity ?  And  how  the  denial  of  all  possible  knowl- 
edge of  the  absolute  digs  away  the  only  foun- 
dation on  which  sanity  can  establish  a  religion, 
and  then  palms  off  material  comfort  as  the 
proper  food  for  religious  longing  ? 

The  long  story  of  religious  effort  is  not  from 
fetichism  to  monotheism,  as  Comte  read  it ;  nor 
is  its  only  possible  goal  inside  the  limits  of  the 
ego,  as  Feuerbach  and  the  other  Neo-Hegelians 
assert ;  but  it  is  on  its  theoretical  side  to  develope 
with  greater  and  greater  distinctness  the  immeas- 
urable reality  of  pure  thought,  to  dispense  more 
and  more  with  the  quantification  of  the  absolute, 
and  to  avoid  in  the  representation  of  that  Being 
the  use  of  the  technic  of  concrete  existence. 

Little  by  little  we  learn  that  the  really  true 
is  never  true  in  fact,  that  the  really  good  is  never 
good  in  act.1  Carefully  cherishing  this  distinction 
taught  by  mathematics  and  ethics,  the  religious 
mind  learns  to  recognize  in  that  only  reality 

i  "A  good  will  is  the  only  altogether  good  thing  in  the  world." 
— Kant.  "  What  man  conceives  in  himself  is  always  superior 
to  £hat  reality  which  it  precedes  and  prepares." — Comte. 


TRUTH  IS  GOD.  195 

darkly  seen  through  the  glass  of  material  things, 
that  which  should  fix  and  fill  its  meditations. 
Passing  beyond  the  domain  of  physical  law,  it 
occupies  itself  with  that  which  defines  the  con- 
ditions of  law.  It  contemplates  an  eternal 
activity,  before  which  its  own  self-consciousness 
seems  a  flickering  shadow,  yet  in  that  contempla- 
tion is  not  lost  but  gains  an  evergrowing  per- 
sonality. 

This  is  the  goal  of  religious  striving,  the 
hidden  aim  of  the  wars  and  persecutions,  the 
polemics  and  martyrdoms,  which  have  so  busied 
and  bloodied  the  world.  This  satisfies  the  rational 
postulates  of  religion.  Does  some  one  say  that  it 
does  not  stimulate  its  emotional  elements,  that 
it  does  not  supply  the  impulses  of  action  which 
must  ever  be  the  criteria  of  the  true  faith.  ?  Is 
it  not  a  religion  at  all,  but  a  philosophy,  a  search, 
or  if  you  prefer,  a  love  for  the  truth  ? 

Let  such  doubter  ponder  well  the  signification 
of  truth,  its  relation  to  life,  its  identity  with  the 
good,  and  the  paramount  might  of  wisdom  and  a 
clear  understanding,  and  he  will  be  ready  to 
exclaim  with  the  passionate  piety  of  St.  Augus- 
tine :  "  Ubi  inveni  veritatem,  ibi  inveni  Deum 
meum,  ipsam  veritatem,  quam,  ex  quo  didici, 
non  sum  oblitus." 

From  this  brief  review  of  its  character,  the 
Myth  will  be  seen  to  be  one  of  the  transitory 
expressions  of  the  religious  sentiment,  which  in 


196  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

enlightened  lands  it  has  already  outgrown  and 
should  lay  aside.  So  far  as  it  relates  to  events, 
real  or  alleged,  historic  or  geologic,  it  deals  with 
that  which  is  indifferent  to  pure  religion ;  and 
so  far  as  it  assumes  to  reveal  the  character,  plans 
and  temper  of  divinity,  it  is  too  evidently  a  re- 
flex of  man's  personality  to  be  worthy  of  serious 
refutation  where  it  conflicts  with  the  better  guide 
he  has  within  him. 


THE  CULT,  ITS  SYMBOLS  AND  RITES. 


OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


SUMMARY. 


Tlie  Symbol  represents  the  unknown ;  the  Bite  is  the  ceremony  of 
worship. 

A  symbol  stands  for  the  supernatural,  an  emblem  for  something  known. 
The  elucidation  of  symbolism  is  in  the  laws  of  the  association  of  ideas. 
Associations  of  similarity  give  related  symbols,  of  contiguity  coincident  sym- 
bols. Symbols  tend  either  toward  personification  (iconolatry),  or  toward 
secularization.  The  symbol  has  no  fixed  interpretation.  Its  indefinitencss 
shown  by  the  serpent  symbol,  and  the  cross.  The  physiological  relations  of 
cvruim  symbols.  Their  classification.  The  Lotus.  The  Pillar.  Symbols 
discarded  by  the  higher  religious  thought.  Esthetic  and  scientific  symbolism 
(the  "  Doctrine  of  Correspondences"). 

Kites  arc  either  propitiatory  or  memorial.  The  former  spring  either  from 
the  idea  of  sacrifice  or  of  specific  performance.  A  sacrilice  is  a  gift,  but  its 
measure  is  what  it  costs  the  giver.  Specific  performance  means  that  a 
religious  act  should  have  no  ulterior  aim.  Vicarious  sacrilice  and  the  idea 
of  sin. 

Memorial  rites  are  intended  to  recall  the  myth,  or  else  to  keep  up  the 
organization.  The  former  are  dramatic  or  imitative,  the  latter  institution- 
ary.  Tendency  of  memorial  rites  to Jbecome  propitiatory.  Examples. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE    CULT,    ITS    SYMBOLS    AND   RITES. 


As  the  side  wliich  a  religious  system  presents 
to  the  intellect  is  shown  in  the  Myth,  so  the  side 
that  it  presents  to  sense  is  exhibited  in  the  Cult. 
This  includes  (the  representation  and  forms  of 
worship  of  the  unknown  power  which  presides 
over  the  fruition  of  the  Prayer  or  religious 
wish.  The  representation  is  effected  by  the 
Symbol,  the  worship  by  the  Rite}  The  devel- 
opment of  these  two,  and  their  relation  to  reli- 
gious thought,  will  be  the  subject  of  the  present 
chapter. 

The  word  Symbolism  has  a  technical  sense 
in  theological  writings,  to  wit,  the  discussion  of 
creeds,  quite  different  from  that  in  which  it  is 
used  in  mythological  science.  Here  it  means 
the  discussion  of  the  natural  objects  which  have 
been  used  to  represent  to  sense  supposed  super- 
natural beings.  As  some  conception  of  such 
beings  must  first  be  formed,  the  symbol  is  neces- 


200  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

sarily  founded  upon  the  myth,  and  must  be 
explained  by  it. 

A  symbol  is  closely  allied  to  an  emblem, 
the  distinction  being  that  the  latter  is  intended 
to  represent  some  abstract  conception  or  concrete 
fact,  not  supposed  to  be  supernatural.  Thus  the 
serpent  is  the  emblem  of  Esculapius,  or,  ab- 
stractly, of  the  art  of  healing ;  but  in  its  use 
as  a  symbol  in  Christian  art  it  stands  for  the 
Evil  One,  a  supernatural  being.  The  heraldric 
insignia  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  emblematic 
devices ;  but  the  architecture  of  the  cathedrals 
was  largely  symbolic.  Both  agree  in  aim- 
ing to  aid  the  imagination  and  the  memory, 
and  both  may  appeal  to  any  special  sense, 
although  the  majority  are  addressed  to  sight 
alone. 

Symbolism  has  not  received  the  scientific 
treatment  which  has  been  so  liberally  bestowed 
on  mythology.  The  first  writer  who  approached 
it  in  the  proper  spirit  was  Professor  Creuzer.1 
Previous  to  his  labors  the  distinction  between 
pictographic  and  symbolic  art  was  not  well  de- 
fined. He  drew  the  line  sharply,  and  illustrated 
it  abundantly ;  but  he  did  not  preserve  so  clear- 
ly the  relations  of  the  symbol  and  the  myth. 
Indeed,  he  regarded  the  latter  as  a  symbol,  a 
" phonetic"  one,  to  be  treated  by  the  same  pro- 

1  In  his  chapter  Ideen  zu  einer  Physik  des  Symbols  und  des 
My  thus  j  of  his  Symbolik  und  Mythologie. 


ORIGIN  OF  SYMBOLS.  201 

cesses  of  analysis.  Herein  later  students  have 
not  consented  to  follow  him.  The  contrast  be- 
tween these  two  expressions  of  the  religious  sen- 
timent becomes  apparent  when  w^e  examine  their 
psychological  origin.  This  Professor  Creuzer  did 
not  include  in  his  researches,  nor  is  it  dwelt  upon 
at  any  length  in  the  more  recent  wrorks  on  the 
subject.1  The  neglect  to  do  this  has  given  rise 
to  an  arbitrariness  in  the  interpretation  of  many 
symbols,  which  has  often  obscured  their  position 
in  religious  history. 

What  these  principles  are  I  shall  endeavor 
to  indicate  ;  and  first  of  the  laws  of  the  origin  of 
symbols,  the  rules  which  guided  the  early  intel- 
lect in  choosing  from  the  vast  number  of  objects 
appealing  to  sense  those  fit  to  shadow  forth  the 
supernatural. 

It  may  safely  be  assumed  that  this  was  not 
done  capriciously,  as  the  modern  parvenue  makes 
for  himself  a  heraldric  device.  The  simple  and 
devout  intellect  of  the  primitive  man  imagined 
a  real  connection  between  the  god  and  the  sym- 
bol. Were  this  questioned,  yet  the  wonderful 
unanimity  with  which  the  same  natural  objects, 
the  serpent,  the  bird,  the  tree,  for  example,  were 
everywhere  chosen,  proves  that  their  selection 
was  not  the  work  of  chance.  The  constant  pref- 
erence of  these  objects  points  conclusively  to 

1  Dr.  II.  C.  Barlow's  Essays  on   Symbolism  (London,  1866), 
deserves  mention  as  one  of  the  best  of  these. 


202  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

some  strong  and  frequent  connection  of  their 
images  with  mythical  concepts. 

The  question  of  the  origin  of  symbols  there- 
fore resolves  itself  into  one  of  the  association  of 
ideas,  and  we  start  from  sure  ground  in  applying 
to  their  interpretation  the  established  canons  of 
association.  These,  as  I  have  elsewhere  said, 
are  those  of  contiguity  and  similarity,  the  former 
producing  association  by  the  closeness  of  suc- 
cession of  impressions  or  thoughts,  the  latter 
through  impressions  or  thoughts  recalling  like 
ones  in  previous  experience.  When  the  same 
occurrence  affects  different  senses  simultaneously, 
or  nearly  so,  the  association  is  one  of  contujulty, 
as  thunder  and  lightning,  for  a  sound  cannot  be 
like  a  sight ;  when  the  same  sense  is  affected  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  recall  a  previous  impression, 
the  association  is  one  of  similarity,  as  when  the 
red  autumn  leaves  recall  the  hue  of  sunset. 
Nearness  in  time  or  nearness  in  kind  is  the 
condition  of  association. 

The  intensity  or  permanence  of  the  associa- 
tion depends  somewhat  on  temperament,  but 
chiefly  on  repetition  or  continuance.  Not  having 
an  ear  for  music,  I  may  find  it  difficult  to  recall 
a  song  from  hearing  its  tune ;  but  by  dint  of 
frequent  repetition  I  learn  to  associate  them. 
Light  and  heat,  smoke  and  fire,  poverty  and 
hunger  so  frequently  occur  together,  that  the 
one  is  apt  to  recall  the  other.  So  do  a  large 


RELATED  SYMBOLS.  203 

number  of  antithetical  associations,  as  light  and 
darkness,  heat  and  cold,  bj  inverse  similarity, 
opposite  impressions  reviving  each  other,  in 
accordance  with  the  positive  and  privative  ele- 
ments of  a  notion. 

This  brief  reference  to  the  laws  of  applied 
thought, — too  brief,  did  I  not  take  for  granted 
that  they  are  generally  familiar — furnishes  the 
clue  to  guide  us  through  the  labyrinth  of 
symbolism,  to  wit,  the  repeated  association  of 
the  event  or  power  recorded  in  the  myth  with 
some  sensuous  image.  Where  there  is  a  con- 
nection in  kind  between  the  symbol  and  that  for 
which  it  stands,  there  is  related  symbolism ; 
where  the  connection  is  one  of  juxtaposition  in 
time,  there  is  coincident  symbolism.  Mother 
Earth,  fertile  and  fecund,  was  a  popular  deity  in 
many  nations,  and  especially  among  the  Egyp- 
tians, who  worshipped  her  under  the  symbol  of 
a  cow ;  this  is  related  symbolism ;  the  historical 
event  of  the  execution  of  Christ  occurred  by 
crucifixion,  one  of  several  methods  common  in 
that  age,  and  since  then  the  cross  has  been  the 
symbol  of  Christianity ;  this  is  coincident  sym- 
bolism. It  is  easy  for  the  two  to  merge,  as  when 
the  cross  was  identified  with  a  somewhat  similar 
and  much  older  symbol,  one  of  the  class  I  have 
called  "  related,"  signifying  the  reproductive 
principle,  and  became  the  "  tree  of  life."  As  a 
coincident  symbol  is  to  a  certain  extent  acciden- 


204  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

tal  in  origin,  related  symbols  have  always  been 
most  agreeable  to  the  religious  sentiment. 

This  remark  embodies  the  explanation  of  the 
growth  of  religious  symbolism,  and  also  its 
gradual  decay  into  decorative  art  and  mnemonic 
design.  The  tendency  of  related  symbolism  is 
toward  the  identification  of  the  symbol  with  that 
for  which  it  stands,  toward  personification  or 
prosopopeia ;  while  what  I  may  call  the  secular- 
ization of  symbols  is  brought  about  by  regarding 
them  more  and  more  as  accidental  connections, 
by  giving  them  conventional  forms,  and  treat- 
ing them  as  elements  of  architectural  or  pictorial 
design,  or  as  aids  to  memory. 

This  tendency  of  related  symbolism  depends 
on  a  law  of  applied  thought  which  has  lately 
been  formulated  by  a  distinguished  logician  in 
the  following  words :  "  What  is  true  of  a  thing, 
is  true  of  its  like."  1  The  similarity  of  the  sym- 
bol., to  its  prototype  assumed,  the  qualities  of  the 
symbol,  even  those  which  had  no  share  in  de- 
ciding its  selection,  no  likeness  to  the  original, 
were  lumped,  and  transferred  to  the  divinity. 
As  those  like  by  similarity,  so  those  unlike, 
were  identified  by  contiguity,  as  traits  of  the  un- 
known power.  This  is  the  active  element  in 
the  degeneracy  of  religious  idealism.  The  cow 
or  the  bull,  chosen  first  as  a  symbol  of  creation 

1  W.  S.  Jevons,  The  Substitution  of  Similars,  p.  15    (London, 
18G9.) 


GROWTH  OF  THE  SYMBOL.  205 

or  fecundity,  led  to  a  worship  of  the  animal 
itself,  and  a  transfer  of  its  traits,  even  to  its 
horns,  to  the  god.  In  a  less 'repulsive  form,  the 
same  tendency  shows  itself  in  the  pietistic  inge- 
nuity of  such  poets  as  Adam  de  Sancto  Victore 
and  George  Herbert,  who  delight  in  taking  some 
biblical  symbol,  and  developing  from  it  a  score 
of  applications  which  the  original  user  never 
dreamt  of.  In  such  hands  a  chance  simile  grows 
to  an  elaborate  myth. 

Correct  thought  would  prevent  the  extension 
of  the  value  of  the  symbol  beyond  the  original 
element  of  similarity.  More  than  this,  it  would 
recognize  the  fact  that  similarity  does  not  sup- 
pose identity,  but  the  reverse,  to  wit,  defect  of 
likeness ;  and  this  dissimilitude  must  be  the 
greater,  as  the  original  and  symbol  are  naturally 
discrepant.  The  supernatual,  however,  whether 
by  this  term  we  mean  the  unknown  or  the  uni- 
versal— still  more  if  we  mean  the  incomprehen- 
sible— is  utterly  discrepant  with  the  known,  ex- 
cept by  an  indefinitely  faint  analogy.  In  the 
higher  thought,  therefore,  the  symbol  loses  all 
trace  of  identity  and  becomes  merely  emblem- 
atic. 

The  ancients  defended  symbolic  teaching  on 
this  very  ground,  that  the  symbol  left  so  much 
unexplained,  that  it  stimulated  the  intellect  and 
trained  it  to  prof o under  thinking  ; l  practically 

1  Oeuzer,  Symbolik,  Bd.  I,  s.  59. 


206  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

it  had  the  reverse  effect,  the  symbol  being  ac- 
cepted as  the  thing  itself. 

Passing  from  these  general  rules  of  the  selec- 
tion of  symbols,  to  the  history  of  the  symbol 
when  chosen,  this  presents  itself  to  us  in  a  re- 
ciprocal form,  first  as  the  myth  led  to  the  adop- 
tion and  changes  in  the  symbol,  and  as  the  latter 
in  turn  altered  and  reformed  the  myth. 

The  tropes  and  figures  of  rhetoric  by  which 
the  conceptions  of  the  supernatural  were  first 
expressed,  give  the  clue  to  primitive  symbolism. 
A  very  few  examples  will  be  sufficient.  No  one 
can  doubt  that  the  figure  of  the  serpent  was 
sometimes  used  in  pictorial  art  to  represent  the 
lightning,  when  he  reads  that  the  Algonkins 
straiglitly  called  the  latter  a  snake  ;  when  he 
sees  the  same  adjective,  spiral  or  winding, 
('siixotzfyz)  applied  by  the  Greeks  to  the  light- 
ning and  a  snake ;  when  the  Quiche  call  the 
electric  flash  a  strong  serpent ;  and  many  other 
such  examples.  The  Pueblo  Indians  represent 
lightning  in  their  pictographs  by  a  zigzag  line. 
A  zigzag  fence  is  called  in  the  Middle  States  a 
worm  or  "  snake  "  fence.  Besides  this,  adjec- 
tives which  describe  the  line  traced  by  the  ser- 
pent in  motion  are  applied  to  many  twisting  or 
winding  objects,  as  a  river,  a  curl  or  lock  of  hair, the 
tendrils  of  a  vine,  the  intestines,  a  trailing  plant, 
the  mazes  of  a  dance,  a  brnoolot.  n  broken  rnyof 
light,  a  sickle,  a  crooked  limb,  an  anfractuous  path; 


THE  SERPENT  SYMBOL.  207 

the  phallus,  etc.  Hence  the  figure  of  a  serpent 
may,  and  in  fact  has  been,  used  with  direct  refer- 
ence to  every  one  of  these,  as  could  easily  be 
shown.  How  short-sighted  then  the  expounder 
of  symbolism  who  would  explain  the  frequent 
recurrence  of  the  symbol  or  the  myth  of  the  ser- 
pent wherever  he  finds  it  by  any  one  of  these  ! 

This  narrowness  of  exposition  becomes  doubly 
evident  when  we  give  consideration  to  two  other 
elements  in  primitive  symbolism — the  multivocal 
nature  of  early  designs,  and  the  misapprehen- 
sions due  to  contiguous  association. 

To  illustrate  the  first,  let  us  suppose,  with 
Schwarz1  and  others,  that  the  serpent  was  at  first 
the  symbol  of  the  lightning.  Its  most  natural 
representation  would  be  in  motion;  it  might  then 
stand  for  the  other  serpentine  objects  I  have 
mentioned ;  but  once  accepted  as  an  acknowl- 
edged symbol,  the  other  qualities  and  properties 
of  the  serpent  would  present  themselves  to  the 
mind,  and  the  effort  would  be  made  to  discover 
or  to  imagine  likenesses  to  these  in  the  electric 
flash.  The  serpent  is  venomous  ;  it  casts  its  skin 
and  thus  seems  to  renew  its  life  ;  it  is  said  to 
fascinate  its  prey ;  it  lives  in  the  ground ;  it  hisses 
or  rattles  when  disturbed :  none  of  these  prop- 
erties is  present  to  the  mind  of  the  savage  who 
scratches  on  the  rock  a  zigzag  line  to  represent 
the  lightning  god.  But  after-thought  brings 

i  Ursprung  der  Mythologie  (Berlin,  1862). 


203  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

them  up,  and  the  association  of  contiguity  can 
apply  them  all  to  the  lightning,  and  actually  has 
done  so  over  and  over  again ;  and  not  only  to 
it,  but  also  to  other  objects  originally  represented 
by  a  broken  line,  for  example,  the  river  gods 
and  the  rays  of  light. 

This  complexity  is  increased  by  the  ambigu- 
ous representation  of  symbolic  designs.  The  ser- 
pent, no  longer  chosen  for  its  motion  alone,  will 
be  expressed  in  art  in  that  form  best  suited  to  the 
meaning  of  the  symbol  present  in  the  mind  of  the 
artist.  Realism  is  never  the  aim  of  religious  art. 
The  zigzag  line,  the  coil,  the  spiral,  the  circle  and 
the  straight  line,  are  all  geometrical  radicals  of  va- 
rious serpentine  forms.  Any  one  of  these  may  bo 
displayed  with  fanciful  embellishments  and  artis- 
tic aids.  Or  the  artist,  proceeding  by  synecdoche, 
takes  a  part  for  the  whole,  and  instead  of  portray- 
ing the  entire  animul,  contents  himself  with  one 
prominent  feature  or  one  aspect  of  it.  A  strik- 
ing instance  of  this  has  been  developed  by  Dr. 
Harrison  Allen,  in  the  prevalence  of  what  he  calls 
the  "  crotalean  curve,"  in  aboriginal  American 
art,  a  line  which  is  the  radical  of  the  profile  view 
of  the  head  of  the  rattlesnake  (cro talus). l  This 
he  has  detected  in  the  architectural  monuments 
of  Mexico  and  Yucatan,  in  the  Maya  phonetic 
scrip,  and  even  in  the  rude  efforts  of  the  savage 
tribes.  Each  of  these  elective  methods  of  repre- 

1  Harrison  Allen,  M.  D.,  The  Life  Form  in  Art,  Phila.  1874. 


THE  CROSS  SYMBOL.  209 

senting  the  serpent,  would  itself,  by  independent 
association,  call  up  ideas  out  of  all  connection  what- 
ever with  that  which  the  figure  first  symbolized. 
These,  in  the  mind  entertaining  them,  will  su- 
persede and  efface  the  primitive  meaning.  Thus 
the  circle  is  used  in  conventional  symbolic  art  to 
designate  the  serpent;  but  also  the  eye,  the  ear-,  the 
open  mouth,  the  mamma,  the  sun,  the  moon,  a 
wheel,  the  womb,  the  vagina,  the  return  of  the 
seasons,  time,  continued  life,  hence  health,  and 
many  other  things.  Whichever  of  these  ideas  is 
easiest  recalled  will  first  appear  on  looking  at  a 
circle.  The  error  of  those  who  have  discussed 
mythological  symbolism  has  been  to  trace  a  con- 
nection of  such  adventitious  ideas  beyond  the 
symbol  to  its  original  meaning ;  whereas  the 
symbol  itself  is  the  starting-point.  To  one  living 
in  a  region  where  venomous  serpents  abound, 
the  figure  of  one  will  recall  the  sense  of  danger, 
the  dread  of  the  bite,  and  the  natural  hostility  we 
feel  to  those  who  hurt  us ;  whereas  no  such 
ideas  would  occur  to  the  native  of  a  country  where 
there  are  no  snakes,  or  where  they  are  harm- 
less, unless  taught  this  association. 

Few  symbols  have  received  more  extended 
study  than  that  of  the  cross,  owing  to  its  promi- 
nence in  Christian  art.  This,  as  I  have  said, 
was  coincident  or  incidental  only.  It  correspond- 
ed, however,  to  a  current  "  phonetic  symbol," 

in  the  expression  common  to  the  Greeks  and 

14 


210  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Romans  of  that  clay,  "  to  take  up  one's  cross," 
meaning  to  prepare  for  the  worst,  a  metaphor 
used  by  Christ  himself. 

Now  there  is  no  agreement  as  to  what  was 
the  precise  form  of  the  cross  on  which  he  suf- 
fered. Three  materially  unlike  crosses  are  each 
equally  probable.  In  symbolic  art  these  have 
been  so  multiplied  that  now  two  hundred  and 
twenty-two  variants  of  the  figure  are  described  I1 
Of  course  there  is  nothing  easier  than  to  find 
among  these  similarities,  with  many  other  con- 
ventional symbols,  the  Egyptian  Tau,  the  Ham- 
mer of  Thor,  the  "  Tree  of  Fertility,"  on  which 
the  Aztecs  nailed  their  victims,  the  crossed 
lines  which  are  described  on  Etruscan  tombs,  or 
the  logs  crossed  at  rectangles,  on  which  the 
Muskogce  Indians  built  the  sacred  fire.  The 
four  cardinal  points  are  so  generally  objects  of 
worship,  that  more  than  any  other  mythical  con- 
ception they  have  been  represented  by  cruci- 
form figures.  But  to  connect  these  in  any  way 
with  the  symbol  as  it  appears  in  Christian  art,  is 
to  violate  every  scientific  principle. 

Each  variant  of  a  symbol  may  give  rise  to 
myths  quite  independent  of  its  original  meaning. 
A  symbol  once  adopted  is  preserved  by  its  sacred 
character,  exists  long  as  a  symbol,  but  with  ever 
fluctuating  significations.  It  always  takes  that 
which  is  uppermost  in  the  mind  of  the  votary  and 

1  Cussans,  Grammar  of  Heraldry,  p.  16. 


THE  LINE  OF  BE  A  UTY.  211 

the  congregation.  Hence,  psychology,  and  espe- 
cially the  psychology  of  races,  is  the  only  true 
guide  in  symbolic  exegesis. 

Nor  is  the  wide  adoption  and  preservation  of 
symbols  alone  due  to  an  easily  noticed  similarity 
between  certain  objects  and  the  earliest  concep- 
tions of  the  supernatural,  or  to  the  preservative 
power  of  religious  veneration. 

I  have  previously  referred  to  the  associations 
of  ideas  arising  from  ancestral  reversions  of 
memory,  and  from  the  principles  of  minimum 
muscular  action  and  harmonic  excitation.  Such 
laws  make  themselves  felt  unconsciously  from 
the  commencement  of  life,  with  greater  or  less 
power,  dependent  on  the  susceptibility  of  the 
nervous  system.  They  go  far  toward  explain- 
ing the  recurrence  and  permanence  of  symbols, 
whether  of  sight  or  sound.  Thus  I  attribute  the 
prevalence  of  the  serpentine  curve  in  early  re- 
ligious art  largely  to  its  approach  to  the  "  line  of 
beauty,"  which  is  none  other  than  that  line 
which  the  eye,  owing  to  the  arrangement  of  its 
muscles,  can  follow  with  the  minimum  expen- 
diture of  nervous  energy.  The  satisfaction  of 
the  mind  in  viewing  symmetrical  figures  or  har- 
monious coloring,  as  also  that  of  the  ear,  in  hear- 
ing accordant  sounds,  is,  as  I  have  remarked,  based 
on  the  principle  of  maximum  action  with  mini- 
mum waste.  The  mind  gets  the  most  at  the 
least  cost. 


212  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

The  equilateral  triangle,  which  is  the  simplest 
geometrical  figure  which  can  enclose  a  space,  thus 
satisfying  the  mind  the  easiest  of  any,  is  nigh  uni- 
versal in  symbolism.  It  is  seen  in  the  Egyptian 
pyramids,  whose  sides  are  equilateral  triangles 
with  a  common  apex,  in  the  mediaeval  cathedrals, 
whose  designs  are  combinations  of  such  triangles, 
in  the  sign  for  the  trinity,  the  pentalpha,  etc. 

The  classification  of  some  symbols  of  less  ex- 
tensive prevalence  must  be  made  from  their  pho- 
netic values.  One  class  was  formed  as  were  the 
"  canting  arms"  in  heraldry,  that  is,  by  a  rebus. 
This  is  in  its  simpler  form,  direct,  as  when  Quet- 
zalcoatl,  the  mystical  hero-god  of  Atzkin,  is  re- 
presented by  a  bird  on  a  serpent,  quetzal  signify- 
ing a  bird,  coatl  a  serpent ;  or  composite,  two  or 
more  of  such  rebus  symbols  being  blended  by 
synecdoche,  like  the  "  marshalling  "  of  arms 
in  heraldry,  as  when  the  same  god  is  portrayed 
by  a  feathered  serpent  ;  or  the  rebus  may 
occur  with  paronymy,  especially  when  the 
literal  meaning  of  a  name  of  the  god  is 
lost,  as  when  the  Algonkins  forgot  the  sense  of 
the  word  icabish,  white  or  bright,  as  applied  to 
their  chief  divinity,  and  confounding  it  with 
wcibos,  a  rabbit,  wove  various  myths  about  their 
ancestor,  the  Great  Hare,  and  chose  the  hare  or 
rabbit  as  a  totemic  badge.1 


o 
1 


Numerous  examples  from  classical  antiquity  are  given  by 
Creuzer,  Symbol ik,  Bd.  i.  s.  114.  sqq. 


THE  LOTUS  SYMBOL.  213 

It  is  almost  needless  to  add  further  that  the 
ideas  most  frequently  associated  with  the  un- 
known object  of  religion  are  those,  which, 
struggling  after  material  expression,  were  most 
fecund  in  symbols.  We  have  but  to  turn  to  the 
Orphic  hymns,  or  those  of  the  Vedas  or  the 
Hebrew  Psalms,  to  see  how  inexhaustible  was 
the  poetic  fancy,  stirred  by  religious  awe,  in 
the  discovery  of  similitudes,  any  of  which, 
under  favoring  circumstances,  might  become  a 
symbol. 

Before  leaving  this  branch  of  my  subject,  I 
may  illustrate  some  of  the  preceding  com- 
ments by  applying  them  to  one  or  two  well 
known  subjects  of  religious  art. 

A  pleasing  symbol,  which  has  played  a  con- 
spicuous part  in  many  religions,  is  the  Egyptian 
lotus,  or  "  lily  of  the  Nile."  It  is  an  aquatic 
plant,  with  white,  roseate  or  blue  flowers,  which 
float  upon  the  water,  and  send  up  from  their  cen- 
tre long  stamens.  In  Egypt  it  grows  with  the 
rising  of  the  Nile,  and  as  its  appearance  was 
coincident  with  that  important  event,  it  came  to 
take  prominence  in  the  worship  of  Isis  and  Osiris 
as  the  symbol,  of  fertility.  Their  mystical  mar- 
riage took  place  in  its  blossom.  In  the  technical 
language  of  the  priests,  however,  it  bore  a  pro- 
founder  meaning,  that  of  the  supremacy  of  rea- 
son above  matter,  the  contrast  being  between 
the  beautiful  flower  and  the  muddy  water  which 


214  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

bears  it.1  In  India  the  lotus  bears  other  and  mani- 
fold meanings.  It  is  a  symbol  of  the  sacred  river 
Ganges,  and  of  the  morally  pure.  No  prayer  in 
the  world  ha3  ever  been  more  frequently  repeat- 
ed than  this :  "  Om  !  the  jewel  in  the  lotus. 
Amen  "  (om  manipadme  hum).  Many  millions 
of  times,  every  hour,  for  centuries,  has  this  been 
iterated  by  the  Buddhists  of  Thibet  and  the 
countries  north  of  it.  What  it  means,  they  can 
only  explain  by  fantastic  and  mystical  gues 
Probably  it  refers  to  the  legendary  birth  of 
their  chief  saint,  Avalokitesvara,  who  is  said  to 
have  been  born  of  a  lotus  flower.  But  some  say 
it  is  a  piece  of  symbolism  not  strange  to  its 
meaning  in  Egypt,2  and  borrowed  by  Buddhism 
from  the  Siva  worship.  In  the  symbolic  lan- 
guage of  this  sect  the  lotus  is  the  symbol  of  the 
vagina,  while  the  phallus  is  called  "  the  jewel." 
With  this  interpretation  the  Buddhist  prayer 
would  refer  to  the  reproductive  act ;  but  it  is 
illustrative  of  the  necessity  of  attributing  wholly 
diverse  meanings  to  the  same  symbol,  that  the 
Buddhists  neither  now  nor  at  any  past  time  at- 
tached any  such  signification  to  the  expression, 
and  it  would  be  most  discrepant  with  their  doc- 
trines to  do  so.3 


1 W.  ron  Ilumboldt,  Gcsammclte  WcrJce,  Bel.  iv.,  s.  332. 

2  Creuzcr,  Symb'tlik'untl  Mylhologie,  Bet.  i.,  s.  282. 

3  Carl    Frederick   Koppen,    Die   Lamaische   Hierarchic   and 
Kirche,  ss.  59,  60,  61. 


THE  PILLAR  SYMBOL.  215 

Another  symbol  has  frequently  been  open 
to  this  duplicate  interpretation,  that  is,  the  up- 
right pillar.  The  Egyptian  obelisk,  the  pillars 
of  "  Irmin "  or  of  "  Roland,"  set  up  now  of 
wood,  now  of  stone  by  the  ancient  Germans,  the 
"  red-painted  great  warpole  "  of  the  American 
Indians,  the  May-pole  of  Old  England,  the  spire 
of  sacred  edifices,  the  staff  planted  on  the  grave, 
the  terminus  of  the  Roman  landholders,  all 
these  objects  have  been  interpreted  to  be  sym- 
bols of  life,  or  the  life-force.  As  they  were  often 
of  wood,  the  trunk  of  a  tree  for  instance,  they 
have  often  been  called  by  titles  equivalent  to 
the  "  tree  of  life,"  and  are  thus  connected  with 
the  nigh  innumerable  myths  which  relate  to 
some  mystic  tree  as  the  source  of  life.  The  ash 
Ygdrasyl  of  the  Edda,  the  oak  of  Dordona  and 
of  the  Druid,  the  modern  Christmas  tree,  the  sa- 
cred banyan,  the  holy  groves,  illustrate  but 
faintly  the  prevalence  of  tree  worship.  Even  so 
late  as  the  thiie  of  Canute,  it  had  to  be  forbid- 
den in  England  by  royal  edict. 

Now,  the  general  meaning  of  this  symbol  I 
take  to  be  the  same  as  that  which  led  to  the 
choice  of  hills  and  "  high  places,"  as  sites  for 
altars  and  temples,  and  to  the  assigning  of  moun- 
tain tops  as  the  abodes  of  the  chief  gods.  It  is 
seen  in  adjectives  applied,  I  believe,  in  all  lan- 
guages, certainly  all  developed  ones,  to  such 
deities  themselves.  These  adjectives  are  related 


21G  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

to  adverbs  of  place,  signifying  above.,  up  or  over. 
We  speak  of  the  supernatural,  or  supernal 
powers,  the  Supreme  Being,  the  Most  High,  He 
in  Heaven,  and  such  like.  So  do  all  Aryan  and 
Semitic  tongues.  Beyond  them,  the  Chinese 
name  for  the  Supreme  Deity,  Tien,  means  up.  I 
have  elsewhere  illustrated  the  same  fact  in 
native  American  tongues.  The  association  of 
light  and  the  sky  above,  the  sun  and  the  heaven, 
is  why  we  raise  our  hands  and  eyes  in  confident 
prayer  to  divinity.  That  at  times,  however,  a 
religion  of  sex-love  did  identify  these  erect  sym- 
bols with  the  phallus  as  the  life-giver,  is  very 
true,  but  this  was  a  temporary  and  adventi- 
tious meaning  assigned  a  symbol  far  more  an- 
cient than  this  form  of  religion. 

In  this  review  of  the  principles  of  religious 
symbolism,  I  have  attempted  mainly  to  exhibit 
the  part  it  lias  sustained  in  the  development 
of  the  religious  sentiment.  It  has  been  gen- 
erally unfavorable  to  the  growth  of  higher 
thought.  The  symbol,  in  what  it  is  above  the 
emblem,  assumes  more  than  a  similarity,  a  closer 
relation  than  analogy;  to  some  degree  it  pre- 
tends to  a  hypostatic  union  or  identity  of  the 
material  with  the  divine,  the  known  to  sense 
with  the  unknown.  Fully  seen,  this  becomes 
object  worship;  partially  so,  personification. 

There  is  no  exception  to  this.     The  refined 
symbolisms  which  pass  current  to  day  as  religious 


THE  RITE.  217 

philosophies  exemplify  it.  The  one,  esthetic 
symbolism,  has  its  field  in  musical  and  archi- 
tectural art,  in  the  study  and  portraiture  of  the 
beautiful ;  the  other,  scientific  symbolism,  claims 
to  discover  in  the  morphology  of  organisms,  in 
the  harmonic  laws  of  physics,  and  in  the  pro- 
cesses of  the  dialectic,  the  proof  that  symbolism, 
if  not  a  revelation,  is  at  least  an  unconscious  in- 
spiration of  universal  truth.  This  is  the  "  Doc- 
trine of  Correspondences,"  much  in  favor  with 
Swedenborgians,  but  by  no  means  introduced 
by  the  founder  of  that  sect.  The  recognition  of 
the  identity  in  form  of  the  fundamental  laws  of 
motion  and  thought,  and  the  clearer  understand- 
ing of  the  character  of  harmony  which  the  ex- 
periments of  Helmholtz  and  others  give  us,  dis- 
perse most  of  the  mystery  about  these  similari- 
ties. The  religion  of  art,  as  such,  will  come  up 
for  consideration  in  the  next  chapter. 

The  second  form  of  the  Cult  is  the  Rite. 
This  includes  the  acts  or  ceremonies  of  worship. 
Considered  in  the  gross,  they  can  be  classed  as 
of  two  kinds,  the  first  and  earliest  propitiatory, 
the  second  and  later  memorial  or  institutipnary. 

We  have  but  to  bear  in  mind  the  one  aspira- 
tion of  commencing  religious  thought,  to  wit, 
the  attainment  of  a  wish,  to  see  that  whatever 
action  arose  therefrom  must  be  directed  to  that 
purpose.  Hence,  when  we  analyze  the  rude 
ceremonies  of  savage  cults,  the  motive  is 


218  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

extremely  apparent.  They,  like  their  prayers, 
all  point  to  the  securing  of  some  material  ad- 
vantage. They  are  designed 

"  to  cozen 
The  gods  that  constrain  us  and  curse." 

The  motives  which  underlie  these  simplest 
as  well  as  the  most  elaborate  rituals,  and  impress 
upon  them  their  distinctively  religious  character 
can  be  reduced  to  two,  the  idea  of  sacrifice  and 
the  idea  of  specific  performance. 

The  simplest  notion  involved  in  a  sacrifice  is 
that  of  gibing.  The  value  of  the  gift  is  not, 
however,  the  intrinsic  worth  of  the  thing  given, 
nor  even  the  pleasure  or  advantage  the  recip- 
ient derives  therefrom,  but,  singularly  enough, 
the  amount  of  pain  the  giver  experiences  in 
depriving  himself  of  it!  This  is  also  often  seen 
in  ordinary  transactions.  A  rich  man  who  sub- 
scribes a  hundred  dollars  to  a  charity,  is  thought 
to  merit  less  commendation  than  the  widow  who 
gives  her  mite.  Measured  by  motive,  this  rea- 
soning is  correct.  There  is  a  justice  which  can 
be  vindicated  in  holding  self-denial  to  be  a 
standard  of  motive.  All  developed  religions  have 
demanded  the  renunciation  of  what  is  dearest. 
The  Ynglyngasaga  tells  us  that  in  a  time  of  fam- 
ine, the  first  sacrifice  offered  to  the  gods  was  of 
beasts  only ;  if  this  failed,  men  were  slain  to 
appease  them  •  and  if  this  did  not  mitigate  their 


SPECIFIC  PERFORMANCE.  219 

anger,  the  king  himself  was  obliged  to  die  that 
they  might  send  plenty.  The  Latin  writers  have 
handed  it  down  that  among  the  Germans  and 
Gauls  a  human  sacrifice  was  deemed  the  more 
efficacious  the  more  distinguished  the  victim,  and 
the  nearer  his  relationship  to  him  who  offered  the 
rite.1  The  slaughter  of  children  and  wives  to 
please  the  gods  was  common  in  many  religions, 
and  the  self-emasculation  of  the  priests  of  Cybele, 
with  other  such  painful  rites,  indicates  that  the 
measure  of  the  sacrifice  was  very  usually  not 
what  the  god  needed,  but  the  willingness  of  the 
worshipper  to  give. 

The  second  idea,  that  of  specific  performance, 
has  been  well  expressed  and  humorously  com- 
mented upon  by  Hume  in  his  Natural  History  of 
Religions.  He  says  :  "  Here  I  cannot  forbear  ob- 
serving a  fact  which  may  be  worth  the  attention 
of  those  who  make  human  nature  the  object  of 
their  inquiry.  It  is  certain  that  in  every  religion, 
many  of  the  votaries,  perhaps  the  greatest  num- 
ber, will  seek  the  divine  favor,  not  by  virtue  and 
good  morals,  but  either  by  frivolous  observances, 
by  intemperate  zeal,  by  rapturous  ecstasies,  or 
by  the  belief  of  mysterious  and  absurd  opinions. 
r  In  all  this  [i.  e.,  in  virtue  and  good  morals], 
a  superstitious  man  finds  nothing,  which  he  has 
properly  performed  for  the  sake  of  his  deity,  or 

1  Adolph  Holtzmann,  Deutsche  Mytliologie,  p.  232  (Leipzig, 
1874). 


220  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

which  can  peculiarly  recommend  him  to  divine 
favor  and  protectioi  .  *•  *  *  *  But  if  he  fast 
or  give  himself  a  sound  whipping,  this  has  a 
direct  reference,  in  his  opinion,  to  the  service  of 
God.  No  other  motive  could  engage  him  to  such 
austerities." 

The  philosopher  here  sets  forth  in  his  in- 
imitable style  a  marked  characteristic  of  relig- 
ious acts.  But  he  touches  upon  it  with  his 
usual  superficiality.  It  is  true  that  no  religion 
has  ever  been  content  with  promoting  the  happi- 
ness of  man,  and  that  the  vast  majority  of  votaries 
are  always  seeking  to  do  something  specifically 
religious,  and  are  not  satisfied  with  the  moral  only. 
The  simple  explanation  of  it  is  that  the  religious 
sentiment  has  a  purpose  entirely  distinct  from 
ethics,  a  purpose  constantly  felt  as  something 
peculiar  to  itself,  though  obscurely  seen  and  often 
wholly  misconceived.  It  is  only  when  an  action 
is  utterly  dissevered  from  other  ends,  and  is 
purely  and  solely  religious,  that  it  can  satisfy  this 
sentiment.  "  La  religion"  most  truly  observes 
Madame  Neckerde  Saussure,  "  ne  doit  point  avoir 
(Tautre  but  qiielle  meme" 

The  uniform  prevalence  of  these  ideas  in  rites 
may  be  illustrated  from  the  simplest  or  the  most 
elaborate.  Father  Brebeuf,  missionary  to  the 
Hurons  in  1636,  has  a  chapter  on  their  super- 
stitions. He  there  tells  us  that  this  nation  had 
two  sorts  of  ceremonies,  the  one  to  induce  the 


RITES  OF  SACRIFICE.  221 

gods  to  grant  good  fortune,  the  other  to  appease 
them  when  some  ill-luck  had  occurred.  Before 
running  a  dangerous  rapid  in  their  frail  canoes 
they  would  lay  tobacco  on  a  certain  rock  where 
the  deity  of  the  rapid  was  supposed  to  reside,  and 
ask  for  safety  in  their  voyage.  They  took  to- 
bacco and  cast  it  in  the  fire,  saying  :  "  0  Heaven 
(Aronhiate),  see,  I  give  you  something;  aid 
me ;  cure  this  sickness  of  mine."  When  one 
was  drowned  or  died  of  cold,  a  feast  was  called, 
and  the  soft  parts  of  the  corpse  were  cut  from 
the  bones  and  burned  to  conciliate  the  personal 
god,  while  the  women  danced  and  chanted  a 
melancholy  strain.  Here  one  sacrifice  was  to 
curry  favor  with  the  gods,  another  to  soothe 
their  anger,  and  the  third  was  a  rite,  not  a  sacri- 
fice, but  done  for  a  religious  end,  whose  merit 
was  specific  performance. 

As  the  gift  was  valued  at  what  it  cost  the 
giver,  and  was  supposed  to  be  efficacious  in  this 
same  ratio,  self-denial  soon  passed  into  self-tor- 
ture, prolonged  fasts,  scourging  and  lacerations, 
thus  becoming  legitimate  exhibitions  of  religious 
fervor.  As  mental  pain  is  as  keen  as  bodily 
pain,  the  suffering  of  Jephthah  was  quite  as- 
severe  as  that  of  the  Flagellants,  and  was  ex- 
pected to  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  gods. 

A  significant  corrollary  from  such  a  theory 
follows  :  that  which  is  the  efficacious  part  of  the 
sacrifice  is  the  suffering  ;  given  a  certain  degree 


222  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

of  this,  the  desired  effect  will  follow.  As  to 
what  or  who  suffers,  or  in  what  manner  he  or  it 
suffers,  these  are  secondary  considerations,  even 
unimportant  ones,  so  far  as  the  end  to  be  ob- 
tained is  concerned.  This  is  the  germ  of  vicari- 
ous sacrifice,  a  plan  frequently  observed  in  even 
immature  religions.  What  seems  the  diabolical 
cruelty  of  some  superstitious  rites,  those  of  the 
Carthaginians  and  Celts,  for  example,  is  thorough- 
ly consistent  with  the  abstract  theory  of  sacri- 
fice, and  did  not  spring  from  capricious  malice. 
The  Death  of  Christ,  regarded  as  a  general 
vicarious  atonement,  has  had  its  efficiency  ex- 
plained directly  by  the  theory  that  the  pain  he 
suffered  partook  of  the  infinity  of  his  divine  na- 
ture ;  as  thus  it  was  excruciating  beyond  measure, 
so  it  was  infinitely  effectual  toward  appeasing 
divinity. 

It  is  well  known  that  this  doctrine  was  no 
innovation  on  the  religious  sentiment  of  the  age 
when  it  was  preached  by  the  Greek  fathers. 
For  centuries  the  Egyptian  priests  had  taught 
the  incarnation  and  sufferings  of  Osiris,  and  his 
death  for  the  salvation  of  his  people.  Similar 
myths  were  common  throughout  the  Orient,  all 
drawn  from  the  reasoning  I  have  mentioned.1 

They  have  been  variously  criticized.     Apart 

1  "Es  1st  so  gewissermassen  in  alien  emsten  orientalischen 
Lehrcn  das  Christent'.um  in  seinem  Keime  vorgebildet."  Creu- 
zer,  Symbolik  und  Mytliologie  der  Allen  Volker,  Bd.  i.,  s.  297. 


THE  ONLY  SACRIFICE.  223 

from  the  equivocal  traits  this  theory  of  atone- 
ment attributes  to  the  supernatural  powers — a 
feature  counterbalanced,  in  modern  religion,  by 
subduing  its  harshest  features — it  is  rooted  essen- 
tially in  the  material  view  of  religion.  The  re- 
ligious value  of  an  act  is  to  be  appraised  by  the 
extent  to  which  it  follows  recognition  of  duty. 
To  acknowledge  an  error  is  unpleasant ;  to  re- 
nounce it  still  more  so,  for  it  breaks  a  habit ;  to 
see  our  own  errors  in  their  magnitude,  sullying 
our  whole  nature  and  reaching  far  ahead  to 
generations  yet  unborn,  is  consummately  bitter, 
and  in  proportion  as  it  is  bitter,  will  keep  us  from 
erring.1  This  is  the  "sacrifice  of  a  contrite 
heart,'*  which  alone  is  not  despicable  ;  and  this 
no  one  can  do  for  us.  We  may  be  sure  that 
neither  the  physical  pain  of  victims  burning  in  a 
slow  fire,  nor  the  mental  pain  of  yielding  up 
whatever  we  hold  dearest  upon  earth,  will  make 
our  views  of  duty  a  particle  clearer  or  our  notion 
of  divinity  a  jot  nobler;  and  whatever  does 
neither  of  these  is  not  of  true  religion. 

The  theory  of  sacrifice  is  intimately  related 
with  the  idea  of  sin.  In  the  quotation  I  have 
made  from  Father  Brebeuf  we  see  that  the 

1  In  a  conversation  reported  by  Mr.  John  Morley,  John 
Stuart  Mill  expressed  his  belief  that  "  the  coming  modifica- 
tion of  religion  "  will  be  controlled  largely  through  men  becom- 
ing "  more  and  more  impressed  with  the  awful  fact  that  a  piece 
of  conduct  to-day  may  prove  a  curse  to  men  and  women  scores 
and  even  hundreds  of  years  after  the  author  of  it  is  dead." 


224  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Hurons  recognized  a  distinct  form  of  rite  as  ap- 
propriate to  appease  a  god  when  angered.  It 
is  a  matter  of  national  temperament  which  of 
these  forms  takes  the  lead.  Joutel  tells  of  a 
tribe  in  Texas  who  paid  attention  only  to  the 
gods  who  worked  them  harm,  saying  that  the 
good  gods  were  good  anyhow.  By  parity  of 
reasoning,  one  sect  of  Mohammedans  worship 
the  devil  only.  It  is  well  to  make  friends  with 
your  enemy,  and  then  he  will  not  hurt  you ;  and 
if  a  man  is  shielded  from  his  enemies,  he  is  safe 
enough. 

But  where,  as  in  most  Semitic,  Celtic  and 
various  other  religions,  the  chief  gods  frowned 
or  smiled  as  they  were  propitiated  or  neglected, 
and  when  a  certain  amount  of  pain  was  the  pro- 
pitiation they  demanded,  the  necessity  of  ren- 
dering this  threw  a  dark  shadow  on  life.  What 
is  the  condition  of  man,  that  only  through  sorrow 
he  can  reach  joy  ?  He  must  be  under  a  curse. 

Physical  and  mental  processes  aided  by  anal- 
ogy this  gloomy  deduction.  It  is  only  through 
pain  that  we  are  stimulated  to  the  pursuit  of 
pleasure,  and  the  latter  is  a  phantom  we  never 
catch.  The  laws  of  correct  reasoning  are  those 
which  alone  should  guide  us ;  but  the  natural 
laws  of  the  association  of  ideas  do  not  at  all  cor- 
respond with  the  one  association  which  reason 
accepts.  Truth  is  what  we  are  born  for,  error 
is  what  is  given  us. 


THE  SENSE  OF  SIN.  225 

Instead  of  viewing  this  state  of  things  as 
one  inseparable  to  the  relative  as  another  than 
the  universal,  and,  instead  of  seeing  the  means  of 
correcting  it  in  the  mental  element  of  attention, 
continuance  or  volition,  guided  by  experience 
and  the  growing  clearness  of  the  purposes  of  the 
laws  of  thought,  the  problem  was  given  up  as 
hopeless,  and  man  was  placed  under  a  ban  from 
which  a  god  alone  could  set  him  free ;  he  was 
sunk  in  original  sin,  chained  to  death. 

To  reach  this  result  it  is  evident  that  a  con- 
siderable effort  at  reasoning,  a  peculiar  view  of 
the  nature  of  the  gods,  and  a  temperament  not 
the  most  common,  must  be  combined.  Hence  it 
was  adopted  as  a  religious  dogma  by  but  a  few 
nations.  The  Chinese  know  nothing  of  the 
"sense  of  sin,"  nor  did  the  Greeks  and  Komans. 
The  Parsees  do  not  acknowledge  it,  nor  do  the 
American  tribes.  "  To  sin,"  in  their  languages, 
does  not  mean  to  offend  the  deity,  but  to  make 
a  mistake,  to  miss  the  mark,  to  loose  one's  way 
as  in  a  wood,  and  the  missionaries  have  exceed- 
ing difficulty  in  making  them  understand  the 
theological  signification  of  the  word. 

The  second  class  of  rites  are  memorial  in 
character.  As  the  former  were  addressed  to  the 
gods,  so  these  are  chiefly  for  the  benefit  of  the 
people.  They  are  didactic,  to  preserve  the  myth, 
or  institutionary,  to  keep  alive  the  discipline  and 

forms  of  the  church. 

15 


220  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Of  this  class  of  rites  it  may  broadly  be  said 
they  are  the  myth  dramatized.  Indeed,  the  drama 
owes  its  origin  to  the  mimicry  by  worshippers  of 
the  supposed  doings  of  the  gods.  The  most 
ancient  festivals  have  reference  to  the  recur- 
rence of  the  seasons,  and  the  ceremonies  which 
mark  them  represent  the  mythical  transactions 
which  are  supposed  to  govern  the  yearly  changes. 
The  god  himself  was  often  represented  by  the 
high  priest,  and  masked  figures  took  the  parts 
of  attendant  deities. 

Institutionary  rites  are  those  avowedly  de- 
signed to  commemorate  a  myth  or  event,  and 
to  strengthen  thereby  the  religious  organization. 
Christian  baptism  is  by  some  denominations 
looked  upon  as  a  commemorative  or  institution- 
ary  rite  only ;  and  the  same  is  the  case  with  the 
Lord's  Supper.  These  seem  to  have  been  the 
only  rites  recommended,  though  the  former  was 
not  practiced  by  Christ.  In  any  ordinary  mean- 
ing of  his  words,  he  regarded  them  both  as  insti- 
tutionary. 

The  tendency  of  memorial  to  become  propitia- 
tory rites  is  visible  in  all  materialistic  religions. 
The  procedure,  from  a  simple  commemorative 
act,  acquires  a  mystic  efficacy,  a  supernatural 
or  spiritual  power,  often  supposed  to  extend 
to  the  deity  as  well  as  the  votary.  Thus  the  In- 
dian "  rain-maker  "  will  rattle  his  gourd,  beat 
his  drum,  and  blow  through  his  pipe,  to  represent 


MEMORIAL  RITES.  227 

the  thunder,  lightning,  and  wind  of  the  storm  ; 
and  he  believes  that  by  this  mimicry  of  the  rain- 
god's  proceedings  he  can  force  him  to  send  the 
wished-for  showers.  The  charms,  spells  and  in- 
cantations of  sorcery  have  the  same  foundation. 
Equally  visible  is  it  in  the  reception  of  the  Chris- 
tian rites  above  mentioned,  baptism  and  the  Eu- 
charist, as  "  sacraments,"  as  observances  of  divine 
efficacy  in  themselves.  All  such  views  arise 
from  the  material  character  of  the  religious 
wants. 

The  conclusion  is  that,  while  emblems  and 
memorial  rites  have  nothing  in  them  which  can 
mar,  they  also  have  nothing  which  can  aid  the 
growth  and  purity  of  the  religious  sentiment, 
beyond  advancing  its  social  relations  ;  while 
symbols,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term,  and 
propitiatory  rites,  as  necessarily  false  and  without 
foundation,  always  degrade  and  obscure  religious 
thought.  Their  prominence  in  a  cult  declines, 
as  it  rises  in  quality;  and  in  a  perfected 
scheme  of  worship  they  would  have  no  place 
whatever. 


THE  MOMENTA  OF  RELIGIOUS  THOUGHT. 


SUMMARY. 


National  impulses  and  aims  as  historic  ideas.  Their  recurrence  and  its 
explanation.  Their  permanence  in  relation  to  their  truth  and  consciousness. 
The  historic  ideas  in  religious  progress  are  chiefly  three. 

I.  The  Idea  of  the  Perfected  Individual. 

First  placed  in  physical  strength.  This  gave  way  in  Southern  Europe  to 
the  idea  of  physical  symmetry,  a  religion  of  beauty  and  art.  Later  days 
have  produced  the  idea  of  mental  symmetry,  the  religion  of  culture.  All 
have  failed,  and  why  ?  The  momenta  of  true  religion  in  each. 

II.  The  Idea  of  the  Perfected  Commonwealth. 

Certain  national  temperaments  predispose  to  individualism,  others  to 
communism.  The  social  relations  governed  at  first  by  divine  law.  Later, 
morality  represents  this  law.  The  religion  of  conduct.  The  religion  of  sen- 
timent and  of  humanity.  Advantages  and  disadvantages  in  this  i.h  a. 

Comparisons  of  these  two  ideas  as  completed  Respectively  by  Wilhelm 
von  Humboldt  and  Auguste  Comte. 

III.  The  Idea  of  Personal  Survival. 

The  doctrine  of  immortality  the  main  moment  in  Christianity,  Islam  ami 
Buddhism.  Unfamiliar  to  old  and  simple  faiths.'  Its  energy  and  speculative 
relations.  It  is  decreasing  as  a  religious  moment  owing  to,  (1)  a  better  under- 
standing of  ethics,  (2)  more  accurate  cosmical  conceptions,  (3)  the  clearer 
defining  of  life,  (4)  the  increasing  immateriality  of  religions. 

The  future  and  final  moments  of  religious  thought. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    MOMENTA    OF    RELIGIOUS    THOUGHT. 

THE  records  of  the  past  can  be  studied  vari- 
ously. Events  can  be  arranged  in  the  order  of 
their  occurrence  :  this  is  chronology  or  annals  ; 
in  addition  to  this,  their  connections  and  mutual 
relations  as  cause  and  effect  may  be  shown  :  this 
is  historical  science  ;  or,  thirdly,  from  a  general 
view  of  trains  of  related  events  some  abstract 
aim  as  their  final  cause  may  be  theoretically  de- 
duced and  confirmed  by  experience  :  this  is  the 
philosophy  of  history.  The  doctrine  of  final 
causes,  in  its  old  form  as  the  argumentum  de  appe- 
titu,  has  been  superseded.  Function  is  not  pur- 
pose ;  desire  comes  from  the  experience  of  pleas- 
ure, and  realizes  its  dreams,  if  at  all,  by  the  slow 
development  of  capacity.  The  wish  carries  no 
warrant  of  gratification  with  it.  No  "  argument 
from  design  "  can  be  adduced  from  the  region 
where  the  laws  of  physical  necessity  prevail. 
Those  Laws  are  not  designed  for  an  end. 

When,  however,  in  the  unfolding  of  mind  we 
reach  the  stage  of  notions,  we  observe  a  growing 
power  to  accomplish  desire,  not  only  by  altering 


232  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

the  individual  or  race  organism,  but  also  by 
bringing  external  objects  into  unison  with  the 
desire,  reversing  the  process  common  in  the  life 
of  sensation.  This  spectacle,  however,  is  con- 
fined to  man  alone,  and  man  as  guided  by  pros- 
pective volition,  that  is,  by  an  object  ahead. 

When  some  such  object  is  common  to  a  na- 
tion or  race,  it  exercises  a  wide  influence  on  its 
destiny,  and  is  the  key  to  much  that  otherwise 
would  be  inexplicable  in  its  actions.  What  we 
call  national  hopes,  ambitions  and  ideals  are  such 
objects.  Sometimes  they  are  distinctly  recog- 
nized by  the  nation,  sometimes  they  are  pursued 
almost  unconsciously.  They  do  not  correspond 
to  things  as  they  are,  but  as  they  are  wished  to 
be.  Hence  there  is  nothing  in  them  to  insure 
their  realization.  They  are  like  an  appetite, 
which  may  and  may  not  develope  the  function 
which  can  gratify  it.  They  have  been  called 
"  historic  ideas,"  and  their  consideration  is  a 
leading  topic  in  modern  historical  science. 

Reason  claims  the  power  of  criticizing  such 
ideas,  and  of  distinguishing  in  them  between 
what  is  true  and  therefore  obtainable,  and  what 
is  false  and  therefore  chimerical  or  even  destruc- 
tive. This  is  the  province  of  the  philosophy  of 
history.  It  guides  itself  by  those  general  prin- 
ciples for  the  pursuit  of  truth  which  have  been 
noticed  in  brief  in  the  earlier  pages  of  this  book. 
Looking  before  as  well  as  after,  it  aspires  in  the 


HISTORIC  IDEAS.  233 

united  light  of  experience  and  the  laws  of  mind, 
to  construct  for  the  race  an  ideal  within  the 
reach  of  its  capacities,  yet  which  will  develop e 
them  to  the  fullest  extent,  a  pole-star  to  which 
it  can  trust  in  this  night  teeming  with  will-o'-the 
wisps. 

The  opinion  that  the  history  of  mind  is  a  pro- 
gress whose  end  will  be  worth  more  than  was  its 
beginning,  may  not  prove  true  in  fact — the  con- 
crete expression  never  wholly  covers  the  ab- 
stract requirements — but  it  is  undoubtedly  true 
in  theory.  The  progress,  so  far,  has  been  by  no 
means  a  lineal  one — each  son  a  better  man  than 
his  father — nor  even,  as  some  would  have  it,  a 
spiral  one — periodical  recurrences  to  the  same 
historical  ideas,  but  each  recurrence  a  nearer  ap- 
proach to  the  philosophical  idea — but  it  has  been 
far  more  complex  and  irregular  than  any  geomet- 
rical figure  will  illustrate.  These  facile  general- 
izations do  not  express  it. 

Following  the  natural  laws  of  thought  man 
has  erred  infinitely,  and  his  errors  have  worked 
their  sure  result  —  they  have  destroyed  him. 
There  is  no  "  relish  of  salvation"  in  an  error; 
otherwise  than  that  it  is  sure  to  kill  him  who 
obstructs  the  light  by  harboring  it.  There  is  no 
sort  of  convertability  of  the  false  into  the  true, 
as  shallow  thinkers  of  the  day  teach. 

Man  has  only  escaped  death  when  at  first  by  a 
lucky  chance,  and  then  by  personal  and  inherited 


234  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

experience,  his  thoughts  drifted  or  were  forced 
into  conformity  with  the  logical  laws  of  thought. 

A  historic  idea  is  a  complex  product 
formed  of  numerous  conceptions,  some  true  and 
others  false.  Its  permanency  and  efficacy  are  in 
direct  proportion  to  the  number  and  clearness  of 
the  former  it  embraces.  When  it  is  purging  it- 
self of  the  latter,  the  nation  is  progressive  ;  when 
the  false  are  retained,  their  poison  spreads  and 
the  nation  decays. 

The  periodical  recurrence  of  historic  ideas 
is  one  of  their  most  striking  features.  The  ex- 
planations offered  for  it  have  been  various.  The 
ancient  doctrines  of  an  exact  repetition  of  events 
in  the  cycles  of  nature,  and  of  the  transmigra- 
tion of  souls,  drew  much  support  from  it ;  and 
the  modern  modification  of  the  latter  theory  as 
set  forth  by  Wordsworth  and  Lessing,  are  dis- 
tinctly derived  from  the  same  source.  Rightly 
elucidated,  the  philosophical  historian  will  find 
in  it  an  invaluable  clue  to  the  unravelment  of 
the  tangled  skein  of  human  endeavor. 

Historic  periodicity  is  on  the  one  side  an 
organic  law  of  memory,  dependent  upon  the 
revival  of  transmitted  ancestral  impressiqns.  A 
prevailing  idea  though  over-cultivation  exhausts 
its  organic  correlate,  and  leads  to  defective  nutri- 
tion of  that  part  in  the  offspring.  Hence  they  do 
not  pursue  the  same  idea  as  their  fathers,  but 
revert  to  a  remoter  ancestral  historic  idea,  the 


THE  HISTORIC  IDEA.  235 

organic  correlate  of  which  has  lain  fallow,  thus 
gained  strength.  It  is  brought  forth  as  new, 
receives  additions  by  contiguity  and  similarity, 
is  ardently  pursued,  over- cultivated,  and  in  time 
supplanted  by  another  revival.  - 

But  this  material  side  corresponds  to  an  all- 
important  mental  one.  As  an  organic  process 
only,  the  history  of  periodic  ideas  is  thus  satis- 
factorily explained,  but  he  who  holds  this  explana- 
tion to  be  exhaustive  sees  but  half  the  problem. 

The  permanence  of  a  historic  idea,  I  have 
stated,  is  in  direct  proportion  to  the  number  of 
true  ideas  in  its  composition ;  the  impression  it 
makes  on  the  organic  substrata  of  memory  is  in 
turn  in  proportion  to  its  permanence.  The  ele- 
ment of  decay  is  the  destructive  effects  of  nat- 
ural trains  of  thought  out  of  accord  with  the 
logically  true  trains.  These  cause  defective 
cerebral  nutrition,  which  is  thus  seen  to  arise,  so 
far  as  influenced  by  the  operations  of  the  mem- 
ory, from  relations  of  truth  and  error.  There 
is  a  physiological  tendency  in  the  former  to  pre- 
serve and  maintain  in  activity  ;  in  the  latter  to 
disappear.  The  percentage  of  true  concepts 
which  makes  up  the  complexity  of  a  historic  idea 
gives  the  principal  factor  towards  calculating  its 
probable  recurrence.  Of  course,  a  second  factor 
is  the  physiological  one  of  nutrition  itself. 

The  next  important  distinction  in  discussing 
historic  ideas  is  between  those  which  are  held 


236  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

consciously,  and  those  which  operate  unconscious- 
ly. The  former  are  always  found  to  be  more 
active,  and  more  amenable  to  correction.  An 
unconscious  idea  is  a  product  of  the  natural,  not 
the  logical  laws  of  mind,  and  is  therefore  very 
apt  to  be  largely  false.  It  is  always  displaced 
with  advantage  by  a  conscious  aim. 

One  of  the  superficial  fallacies  of  the  day, 
which  pass  under  the  name  of  philosophy,  is  to 
maintain  that  any  such  historic  idea  is  the  best 
possible  one  for  the  time  and  place  in  which  it  is 
found.  I  am  led  to  refer  to  this  by  the  false  light 
it  has  thrown  on  religious  history.  Herbert  Spen- 
cer remarks  in  one  of  his  essays  :  l  "  All  reli- 
gious creeds,  during  the  eras  in  which  they  are 
severally  held,  are 'the  best  that  could  be  held." 
"  All  are  good  for  their  times  and  places."  So 
far  from  this  being  the  case,  there  never  has  been 
a  religion  but  that  an  improvement  in  it  would 
have  straightway  exerted  a  beneficent  effect. 
Man,  ho  matter  what  his  condition,  can  always 

1  Essay  on  the  use  of  Anthropomorphism.  Mr.  Spencer's  argu- 
ment, in  his  own  words,  is  this  : — "  From  the  inability  under 
which  we  labor  to  conceive  of  a  Deity  save  as  some  idealization  of 
ourselves,  it  inevitably  results  that  in  each  age,  among  each 
people,  and  to  a  great  extsnt  in  each  individual,  there  must 
arise  just  tliat  conception  of  Deity  best  adapted  to  the  needs  of 
the  case."  "  All  are  good  for  their  times  and  places."  "  All 
were  beneficent  in  tlieir  effects  on  those  who  held  them."  It 
would  be  hard  to  quote  from  the  records  of  theory-making  an 
example  of  more  complete  indifference  to  acknowledged  facts 
than  these  quotations  set  forth. 


PHILOSOPHERS'  FALLACIES.  237 

derive  immediate  good  from  higher  conceptions 
of  Deity  than  he  himself  has  elaborated.  Nor  is 
the  highest  conception  possible  an  idealization  of 
self,  as  I  have  sufficiently  shown  in  a  previous 
chapter,  but  is  one  drawn  wholly  from  the  realm 
of  the  abstract.  Moreover,  as  a  matter  of  his- 
tory, we  know  that  in  abundant  instances,  the 
decay  of  nations  can  be  traced  largely  to  the  base 
teachings  of  their  religious  instructors.  To 
maintain  that  such  religions  were  "  the  best  pos- 
sible ones  "  for  the  time  and  place  is  the  absurdest 
optimism.  In  what  a  religion  shares  of  the  ab- 
stractly true  it  is  beneficent;  in  what  it  par- 
takes of  the  untrue  it  is  deleterious.  This,  and 
no  other  canon,  must  be  our  guide. 

The  ideas  of  religious  history  obey  the  same 
laws  as  other  historic  ideas.  They  grow,  decay, 
are  supplanted  and  revive  again  in  varying 
guises,  in  accordance  with  the  processes  of  organic 
nutrition  as  influenced  by  the  truth  or  falsity  of 
their  component  ideas.  Their  tendency  to  per- 
sonification is  stronger,  because  of  the  much 
greater  nearness  they  have  to  the  individual  de- 
sire. The  one  aspiration  of  a  high-spirited  people 
when  subjugated  will  be  freedom ;  and  in  the 
lower  stages  of  culture  they  will  be  very  certain 
to  fabricate  a  myth  of  a  deliverer  to  come. 

In  like  manner,  every  member  of  a  com- 
munity shares  with  his  fellow  members  some 
wish,  hope  or  ambition  dependent  on  unknown 


238  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

control  and  therefore  religious  in  character,  which 
will  become  the  "formative  idea"  of  the  national 
religious  development. 

Of  the  various  ideas  in  religious  history  there 
are  three  which,  through  their  permanence  and 
frequent  revival,  we  may  justly  suppose  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  above-mentioned  canons  to 
contain  a  large  measure  of  truth,  and  yet  to  be 
far  from  wholly  true.  They  may  be  considered  as 
leading  moments  in  religious  growth,  yet  withal 
lacking  something  or  other  essential  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  religious  sentiment.  The  first  of 
these  is  the  idea  of  the  perfected  individual ;  the 
second  the  idea  of  the  perfected  commonwealth; 
the  third,  that  of  personal  survival.  These  have 
been  the  formative  ideas  (Ideen  der  Gestaltuny] 
in  the  prayers,  myths,  rites  and  religious  institu- 
tions of  many  nations  at  widely  separated  times. 

Of  the  two  first  mentioned  it  may  be  said  that 
every  extended  faith  has  accepted  them  to 
some  degree.  They  are  the  secret  of  the  alli- 
ances of  religion  with  art,  with  government,  with 
ethics,  with  science,  education  and  sentiment. 

These  alliances  have  often  been  taken  by 
historians  to  contain  the  vital  elements  of  reli- 
gion itself,  and  many  explanations  based  on  one 
or  another  assumption  of  the  kind  have  been 
proffered.  Religion,  while  it  may  embrace  any 
of  them,  is  independent  of  them  all.  Its  rela- 
tions to  them  have  been  transitory,  and  the  more 


THE  PERFECTED  INDIVIDUAL.  239 

so  as  their  aims  have  been  local  and  material.  The 
brief  duration  of  the  subjection  of  religion  to 
such  incongenial  ties  was  well  compared  by 
Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury  to  the  early  maturity 
of  brutes,  who  attain  their  full  growth  in  a  year  or 
two,  while  man  needs  a  quarter  of  a  century.1 
The  inferior  aims  of  the  religious  sentiment  were 
discarded  one  after  another  to  make  way  for 
higher  ones,  which  were  slowly  dawning  upon  it. 
In  this  progress  it  was  guided  largely  by  the 
three  ideas  I  have  mentioned,  which  have  been 
in  many  forms  leading  stimuli  of  the  religious 
thought  of  the  race. 

First,  of  the  idea  of  the  perfected  individual. 

Many  writers  have  supposed  that  the  contem- 
plation of  Power  in  nature  first  stirred  religious 
thought  in  man.  Though  this  is  not  the  view 
taken  in  this  book,  no  one  will  question  that  the 
leading  trait  in  the  gods  of  barbarism  is  physical 
strength.  The  naive  anthropomorphism  of  the 
savage  makes  his  a  god  of  a  mighty  arm,  a  giant 
in  stature,  puissant  and  terrible.  He  hurls  the 
thunderbolt,  and  piles  up  the  mountains  in  sport. 
His  name  is  often  The  Strong  One,  as  in  the 
Allah,  Eloah  of  the  Semitic  tongues.  Hercules, 
Chon,  Melkarth,  Dorsanes,  Thor  and  others  were 
qf  the  most  ancient  divinities  in  Greece,  Egypt, 
Phoenicia,  India,  and  Scandinavia,  and  were  all 
embodiments  of  physical  force.  Such,  too,  was 

1  De  Veritate,  p.  216. 


240  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

largely  the  character  of  the  Algonkin  Messou, 
who  scooped  out  the  great  lakes  with  his  hands 
and  tore  up  the  largest  trees  by  the  roots.  The 
huge  boulders  from  the  glacial  epoch  which  are 
scattered  over  their  country  are  the  pebbles  he 
tossed  in  play  or  in  anger.  The  cleft  in  the 
Andes,  through  which  flows  the  river  Funha,  was 
opened  by  a  single  blow  of  Nemqueteba,  chief 
god  of  the  Muyscas.  In  all  such  and  a  hundred 
similar  legends,  easy  to  quote,  we  see  the  notion 
of  strength,  brute  force,  muscular  power,  was  that 
deemed  most  appropriate  to  divinity,  and  that 
which  he  who  would  be  godlike  must  most  sedu- 
lously seek.  When  filled  with  the  god,  the  votary 
felt  a  surpassing  vigor.  The  Berserker  fury  was 
found  in  the  wilds  of  America  and  Africa,  as 
well  as  among  the  Fiords.  Sickness  and  weakness, 
on  the  contrary,  were  signs  that  the  gods  were 
against  him.  Therefore,  in  all  early  stages  of  cul- 
ture, the  office  of  priest  and  physician  was  one. 
Conciliation  of  the  gods  was  the  catholicon. 

Such  deities  were  fearful  to  behold.  They 
are  represented  as  mighty  of  stature  and  ter- 
rible of  mien,  calculated  to  appal,  not  attract,  to 
inspire  *  fear,  not  to  kindle  love.  In  tropical 
America,  in  Egypt,  in  Thibet,  almost  where  you 
will,  there  is  little  to  please  the  eye  in  the  pic- 
tures and  statues  of  deities. 

In  Greece  alone,  a  national  temperament, 
marvellously  sensitive  to  symmetry,  developed 


THE  RELIGION  OF  BEAUTY.  241 

the  combination  of  maximum  strength  with  per- 
fect form  in  the  sun-god,  Apollo,  and  of  grace 
with  beauty  in  Aphrodite.  The  Greeks  were  the 
apostles  of  tli3  religion  of  beauty.  Their  philo- 
sophic thought  saw  the  permanent  in  the  Form, 
which  outlives  strength,  and  is  that  alone  in 
which  the  race  has  being.  In  its  transmission 
love  is  the  agent,  and  Aphrodite,  unmatched  in 
beauty  and  mother  of  love,  was  a  creation 
worthy  of  their  devotion.  Thus  with  them  the 
religious  sentiment  still  sought  its  satisfaction  in 
the  individual,  not  indeed  in  the  muscle,  but  in 
the  feature  and  expression. 

When  the  old  gods  fell,  the  Christian  fathers 
taught  their  flocks  to  abhor  the  beautiful  as  one 
with  the  sensual.  St.  Clement  of  Alexandria 
and  Tertullian  describe  Christ  as  ugly  of  visage 
and  undersized,  a  sort  of  Socrates  in  appearance.1 
Christian  art  was  long  in  getting  recognition. 
The  heathens  were  the  first  to  represent  in  pic- 
ture and  statues  Christ  and  the  apostles,  and  for 
long  the  fathers  of  the  church  opposed  the  mul- 
tiplication of  such  images,  saying  that  the  in- 
ward beauty  was  alone  desirable.  Christian  art 
reached  its  highest  inspiration  under  the  influence 
of  Greek  culture  after  the  fall  of  Constantinople. 

1  August  Neander,  Geschichte  der  Christlichen  Religion  und 
Kirche,  Bd.  i.,  ss.  160,  346.  (Gotha,  1856.)  St.  Clement's  de- 
scription of  Christ  is  Toy  OTJHV  aiaxpov.  Tertullian  says  :  "  Nee 
humanae  honestatis  corptls  fuit,  nedum  celestis  claritatis." 

16 


242  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

In  the  very  year,  however,  that  Rafaello  Sanzio 
met  his  premature  death,  Luther  burned  the  de- 
cretals of  the  pope  in  the  market-place  of  Witten- 
berg, and  preached  a  doctrine  as  hostile  to  art 
as  was  that  of  Eusebius  and  Chrysostom.  There 
was  no  longer  any  hope  for  the  religion  of  beauty. 

Nevertheless,  under  the  influence  of  the  revi- 
val of  ancient  art  which  arose  with  Winckel- 
mann  towards  the  close  of  the  last  century,  a 
gospel  of  esthetics  was  preached.  Its  apostles 
were  chiefly  Germans,  and  among  them  Schiller 
and  Goethe  are  not  inconspicuous  names.  The 
latter,  before  his  long  life  was  closed,  began  to 
see  the  emptiness  of  such  teachings,  and  the 
violence  perpetrated  on  the  mind  by  forcing  on 
the  religious  sentiment  the  food  lit  only  for  the 
esthetic  emotions. 

The  highest  conception  of  individual  perfec- 
tion is  reached  in  a  character  whose  physical  and 
mental  powers  are  symmetrically  trained,  and 
always  directed  by  conscious  reason  to  their  ap- 
propriate ends.  Self-government,  founded  on 
self-knowledge,  wards  off  the  pangs  of  disap- 
pointment by  limiting  ambition  to  the  attain- 
able. The  affections  and  emotions,  and  the  pleas- 
ures of  sensation  as  well,  are  indulged  in  or 
abstained  from,  but  never  to  the  darkening  of 
the  intellect.  All  the  talents  are  placed  at  usury ; 
every  power  exercised  systematically  and  fruit- 
fully with  a  consecration  to  a  noble  purpose. 


THE  RELIGION  OF  CULTURE.  243 

This  is  the  religion  of  culture.  None  other 
ranks  among  its  adherents  so  many  great  minds ; 
men,  as  Carlyle  expresses  it,  of  much  religi- 
osity, if  of  little  religion.  The  ideal  is  a  taking 
one.  Such  utter  self-reliance,  not  from  ignor- 
ance, but  from  the  perfection  of  knowledge,  was 
that  which  Buddha  held  up  to  his  followers  : 
"  Self  is  the  God  of  self ;  who  else  should  be  the 
God?"  In  this  century  Goethe,  Wordsworth, 
beyond  all  others  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt,  have 
set  forth  this  ideal.  Less  strongly  intellectual 
natures,  as  Maine  de  Biran,  De  Senancourt, 
and  Matthew  Arnold,  listen  with  admiration, 
but  feel  how  unknown  to  the  mass  of  human 
kind  must  remain  the  tongue  these  masters 
speak. 

Thus  did  the  religious  sentiment  seek  its  sat- 
isfaction in  the  idealization,  first  of  physical  force, 
then  of  form,  and  last  of  mental  force,  but 
in  each  case  turned  away  unsatisfied.  Wherein 
did  these  ideals  fail  ?  The  first  mentioned  in 
exalting  power  over  principle,  might  over  right. 
As  was  well  said  by  the  philosophical  Novalis  : 
"  The  ideal  of  morality  has  no  more  dangerous 
rival  than  the  ideal  of  physical  strength,  of  the 
most  vigorous  life.  Through  it  man  is  trans- 
formed into  a  reasoning  beast,  whose  brutal 
cleverness  has  a  fascination  for  weak  minds."  i 
The  religion  of  beauty  failed  in  that  it  addressed 

1  Novalis,  Schrifien,  B.  i.,  s.  244. 


244  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

the  esthetic  emotions,  not  the  reasoning  power. 
Art  does  not  promote  the  good ;  it  owes  no  fealty 
to  either  utility  or  ethics  :  in  itself,  it  must  be, 
in  the  negative  sense  of  the  words,  at  once  use- 
less and  immoral.  "  Nature  is  not  its  standard, 
nor  is  truth  its  chief  end."  1  Its  spirit  is  repose, 
"  the  perfect  form  in  perfect  rest ;  "  whereas  the 
spirit  of  religion  is  action  because  of  imperfec- 
tion. Even  the  gods  must  know  of  suffering,  and 
partake,  in  incarnations,  of  the  miseries  of  men. 

In  the  religion  of  culture  what  can  we  blame  ? 
That  it  is  lacking  in  the  impulses  of  action 
through  the  isolation  it  fosters  ;  that  it  is  and 
must  be  limited  to  a  few,  for  it  provides  no  de- 
fense for  the  weaknesses  the  many  inherit ;  that 
its  tendency  is  antagonistic  to  religion,  as  it  cuts 
away  the  feeling  of  dependence,  and  the  trust 
in  the  unknown ;  that  it  allows  too  little  to  en- 
thusiasm ever  to  become  a  power. 

On  the  other  hand,  what  momenta  of  true 
religious  thought  have  these  ideals  embraced? 
Each  presents  some.  Physical  vigor,  regarded  as 
a  sign  of  complete  nutrition,  is  an  indispensable 
preliminary  to  the  highest  religion.  Correct 
thought  cannot  be,  without  sufficient  and  appro- 
priate food.  If  the  nourishment  is  inadequate, 
defective  energy  of  the  brain  will  be  transmitted, 
and  the  offspring  will  revert  ancestrally  to  a 
lower  plane  of  thought.  "  It  thus  happens  that 

1  A.  Bain,  The  Senses  and  the  Intellect,  p.  607. 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ART.  245 

the  minds  of  persons  of  high  religious  culture  by 
ancestral  descent,  and  the  intermarriage  of  reli- 
gious families,  so  strangely  end  in  the  production 
of  children  totally  devoid  of  moral  sense  and 
religious  sentiment — moral  imbeciles  in  short."  1 
From  such  considerations  of  the  necessity  of 
physical  vigor  to  elevated  thought,  Descartes 
predicted  that  if  the  human  race  ever  attain  per- 
fection it  will  be  chiefly  through  the  art  of  medi- 
cine. Not  alone  from  emotions  of  sympathy 
did  the  eminent  religious  teachers  of  past  ages 
maintain  that  the  alleviation  and  prevention  of 
suffering  is  the  first  practical  duty  of  man  ;  but  it 
was  from  a  perhaps  unconscious  perception  of 
the  antagonism  of  bodily  degeneration  to  mental 
progress. 

So,  too,  the  religion  of  beauty  and  art  con- 
tains an  indefeasible  germ  of  true  religious 
thought.  Art  sees  the  universal  in  the  isolated 
fact ;  it  redeemed  the  coarse  symbol  of  earlier 
days  by  associating  it  with  the  emotions  of  joy, 
instead  of  fear ;  commencing  with  an  exalta- 
tion of  the  love  to  sex,  it  etherealized  and  en- 
nobled passion  ;  it  taught  man  to  look  elsewhere 
than  to  material  things  for  his  highest  pleasure, 
for  the  work  of  art  always  has  its  fortune  in  the 
imagination  and  not  in  the  senses  of  the  ob- 
server ;  conceptions  of  order  and  harmony  are 

1  Dr.  T.  Laycock,  On  some  Organic  Laws   of  Memory,  in  the 
Journal  of  Mental  Science,  July,  1875,  p.  178. 


246  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

familiar  to  it;  its  best  efforts  seek  to  bring 
all  the  affairs  of  life  under  unity  and  system ; l 
and  thus  it  strengthens  the  sentiment  of  moral 
government,  which  is  the  first  postulate  of  re- 
ligion. 

The  symmetry  of  the  individual,  as  under- 
stood in  the  religion  of  culture,  is  likewise  a 
cherished  article  of  true  religion.  Thus  only 
can  it  protect  personality  against  the  pitfalls  of 
self-negation  and  absorption,  which  communism 
and  pantheism  dig  for  it.  The  integrity  and 
permanence  of  the  person  is  the  keystone  to  re- 
ligion, as  it  is  to  philosophy  and  ethics.  None 
but  a  false  teacher  would  measure  our  duty  to 
our  neighbor  by  a  higher  standard  than  our  love 
to  ourselves.  The  love  of  God  alone  is  worthy 
to  obscure  it. 

Professor  Steinthal  has  said  :  "  Every  people 
has  its  own  religion.  The  national  tempera- 
ment hears  the  tidings  and  interprets  them  'as  it 
can."  On  the  other  hand,  Humboldt — perhaps 


1  Speaking  of  the  mission  of  the  artist,  Wilhelm  von  Hum- 
boldt says  :  "  Die  ganze  Natur,  treu  und  vollstandig  beobach- 
tet,  mit  sich  hiniiberzu  tragen,  d.  h.  den   Stoff   seiner  Erfahr- 
ungen  dem  Umfange  der  Welt   gleich  zu  machen,  diese  unge- 
heure   Masse  einzelner  und    abgerissener    Erscheinungen     in 
eine  1'ungetrennte  Einheit  und  ein  organisirtes  Ganzes  zu  ver- 
•svandeln ;    und  dies  durch   alle  die    Organe  zu  thun,  die   ihm 
hierzu  verliehen  sind, — ist  das  letzte  Ziel  seines   intellectuellen 
Bemlihen."      Ueler    Goethe's  Hermann  und  Dorothea,  Ab.  IV. 

2  ZeitscJiriftfiir  Volkerpsyclwlogie,  B.  I.  s.  48. 


IDEAL  OF  COMMONWEALTH.  247 

the  profoundest  thinker  on  these  subjects  of  his 
generation — doubted  whether  religions  can  be 
measured  in  reference  to  nations  and  sects,  be- 
cause "  religion  is  altogether  subjective,  and 
rests  solely  on.  the  conceptive  powers  of  the  in- 
dividual." 1  Whatever  the  creed,  a  pure  mind 
will  attach  itself  to  its  better  elements,  a  base 
one  to  its  brutal  and  narrow  doctrines.  A  na- 
tional religion  can  only  be  regarded  as  an  aver- 
age, applicable  to  the  majority,  not  entirely 
correct  of  the  belief  of  any  one  individual, 
wholly  incorrect  as  to  a  few.  Yet  it  is  indubi- 
table that  the  national  temperament  creates  the 
ideal  which  gives  the  essence  of  religion.  Races 
like  the  Tartar  Mongols,  who,  as  we  are  in- 
formed by  the  Abbe  Hue,  not  unfrequently 
move  their  tents  several  times  a  day,  out  of  sim- 
ple restlessness,  cannot  desire  the  same  stability 
that  is  sought  by  other  races,  who  have  the  bea- 
ver's instinct  for  building  and  colonizing,  such 
as  the  Romans.  Buddhism,  which  sets  up  the 
ideal  of  the  individual,  is  an  acceptable  theory 
to  the  former,  while  the  latter,  from  earliest 
ages,  fostered  religious  views  which  taught  the 
subordination  of  the  individual  to  the  commun- 
ity, in  other  words,  the  idea  of  the  perfected 
commonwealth. 

This  is  the  conception  at  the  base    of   all 

1  Gesammelte  Werke.     Bd.  VII.,  s.  63. 


213  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

theocracies,  forms  of  government  whose  statutes 
are  identified  with  the  precepts  of  religion.  In- 
stead of  a  constitution  there  is  the  Law,  given 
and  sanctioned  by  God  as  a  rule  of  action. 

The  Law  is  at  first  the  Myth  applied.  Its 
object  is  as  much  to  propitiate  the  gods  as  to 
preserve  social  order.  It  is  absolute  because  it 
is  inspired.  Many  of  its  ordinances  as  drawn 
from  the  myth  are  inapplicable  to  man,  and  are 
unjust  or  frivolous.  Yet  such  as  it  is,  it  rules 
the  conduct  of  the  commonwealth  and  expresses 
the  ideal  of  its  perfected  condition. 

All  the  oldest  codes  of  laws  are  religious,  and 
are  alleged  revelations.  The  Pentateuch,  the 
Avesta,  the  Laws  of  Maim,  the  Twelve  Tables, 
the  Laws  of  Seleucus,  all  carry  the  endorse- 
ment, "And  God  said."  Their  real  intention  is 
to  teach  the  relation  of  man  to  God,  rather  than 
the  relations  of  man  to  man.  On  practical 
points — on  the  rights  of  property,  on  succession 
and  wills,  on  contracts,  on  the  adoption  of 
neighbors,  and  on  the  treatment  of  enemies — 
they  often  violate  the  plainest  dictates  of  nat- 
ural justice,  of  common  humanity,  even  of 
family  affection.  Their  precepts  are  frequently 
frivolous,  sometimes  grossly  immoral.  But  if 
these  laws  are  compared  with  the  earliest  myths 
and  cults,  and  the  opinions  then  entertained  of 
the  gods,  and  how  to  propitiate  them,  it  be- 
comes easy  to  see  how  the  precepts  of  the  law 


RELIGION  AS  CONDUCT.  219 

flowed  from  these  inchoate  imaginings  of  the  re- 
ligious sentiment.1 

The  improvement  of  civil  statutes  did  not 
come  through  religion.  Experience,  observa- 
tion and  free  thought  taught  man  justice,  and 
his  kindlier  emotions  were  educated  by  the  de- 
sire to  cherish  and  preserve  which  arose  from 
family  and  social  ties.  As  these  came  to  be 
recognized  as  necessary  relations  of  society,  re- 
ligion appropriated  them,  incorporated  them  into 
her  ideal,  and  even  claimed  them  as  her  rev- 
elations. History  largely  invalidates  this  claim. 
The  moral  progress  of  mankind  has  been  mainly 
apart  from  dogmatic  teachings,  often  in  conflict 
with  them.  An  established  rule  of  faith  may 
enforce  obedience  to  its  statutes,  but  can  never 
develop  morals.  "  True  virtue  is  independent 
of  every  religion,  and  incompatible  with  any 
which  is  accepted  on  authority." J 

Yet  thinkers,  even  the  best  of  them,  appear 
to  have  had  difficulty  in  discerning  any  nobler 
arena  for  the  religious  sentiment  than  the  social 
one.  "Religion,"  says  Matthew  Arnold,  "  is 
conduct."  It  is  the  power  "  which  makes  for 
righteousness."  "As  civil  law,"  said  Voltaire, 
"  enforces  morality  in  public,  so  the  use  of  religion 
is  to  compel  it  in  private  life."  "  A  complete 

1  See  this  forcibly  brought  out  and  abundantly  illustrated  in 
the  work  of  M.  Coulange,  La  Cite  Antique. 

2  W.  von  Humboldt,  Gesammelte  Werke.     Bd.  VII. ,  p.  72. 


250  THE  KELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

morality,"  observes  a  contemporary  Christian 
writer,  "  meets  all  the  practical  ends  of  religion."  l 
In  such  expressions  man's  social  relations,  his  duty 
to  his  neighbor,  are  taken  to  exhaust  religion. 
It  is  still  the  idea  of  the  commonwealth,  the 
religion  of  morality,  the  submission  to  a  law 
recognized  as  divine.  Whether  the  law  is  a  code 
of  ethics,  the  decision  of  a  general  council,  or  the 
ten  commandments,  it  is  alike  held  to  be  written 
by  the  finger  of  God,  and  imperative.  Good 
works  are  the  demands  of  such  religion. 

Catholicism,  which  is  altogether  theocratic  and 
authoritative,  which  pictures  the  church  as  an 
ideal  commonwealth,  has  always  most  flourished 
in  those  countries  where  the  Roman  colonies 
left  their  more  important  traces.  The  reforma- 
tion of  Protestantism  was  a  reversion  to  the  ideal 
of  the  individual,  which  was  that  of  ancient 
Teutonic  faith.  In  more  recent  times  Cathol- 
icism itself  has  modified  the  rigidity  of  its  teach- 
ings in  favor  of  the  religion  of  sentiment,  as  it 
has  been  called,  inaugurated  by  Chateaubriand, 
and  which  is  that  attractive  form  seen  in  the 
writings  of  Madame  Swetchine  and  the  La 
Ferronnais.  These  elevated  souls  throw  a  charm 
around  the  immolation  of  self,  which  the  egotism 
of  the  Protestant  rarely  matches. 

1  II.  L.    Liddon,    Canon  of  St.    Paul's.     Some  Elements  of 
Heligion,  p.  84. 


THE  ONE  MAN  POWER.  251 

Thus  the  ideal  of  the  commonwealth  is  found 
in  those  creeds  which  give  prominence  to  law,  to 
ethics,  and  to  sentiment,  the  altruistic  elements  of 
mind.  It  fails,  because  its  authority  is  antagonis- 
tic to  morality  in  that  it  impedes  the  search  for 
the  true.  Neither  is  morality  religion,  for  it 
deals  with  the  relative,  while  religion  should 
guide  itself  by  the  absolute.  Every  great  re- 
ligious teacher  has  violated  the  morality  of  his 
day.  Even  sentiment,  attractive  as  it  is,  is  no 
ground  on  which  to  build  a  church.  It  is,  at 
best,  one  of  the  lower  emotional  planes  of  action. 
Love  itself,  which  must  be  the  kernel  of  every  true 
religion,  is  not  in  earthly  relations  an  altruistic 
sentiment.  The  measure  and  the  source  of  all 
such  love,  is  self-love.  The  creed  which  rejects 
this  as  its  corner  stone  will  build  in  vain. 

While,  therefore,  the  advantages  of  organiza- 
tion and  action  are  on  the  side  of  the  faiths  which 
see  in  religion  a  form  of  government,  they  pre- 
sent fewer  momenta  of  religious  thought  than 
those  which  encourage  the  greater  individuality. 
All  forms  and  reforms,  remarks  Machiavelli,  in 
one  of  his  notes  to  Livy,  have  been  brought 
about  by  the  exertions  of  one  man.1  Religious 


1  The  Chevalier  Bunsen  completed  the  moral  estimate  of  the 
one-man-power,  thus  acknowledged  by  Machiavelli,  in  these 
words  :  "  Alles  Grosse  geht  aus  vom  Einzelnen,  aber  nur  in 
dem  Masse ,  als  dieser  das  Ich  dem  Ganzen  opfert."  Gott  in  der 
GeschicJite,  Bd.  I.,  s.  38. 


252  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

reforms,  especially,  never  have  originated  in 
majorities.  The  reformatory  decrees  of  the 
Council  of  Trent  are  due  to  Martin  Luther. 

Either  ideal,  raised  to  its  maximum,  not  only 
fails  to  satisfy  the  religious  sentiment,  but  puts 
upon  it  a  forced  meaning,  and  is  therefore  not 
what  this  sentiment  asks.  This  may  be  illus- 
trated by  comparing  two  remarkable  works, 
which,  by  a  singular  coincidence,  were  published 
in  the  same  year,  and  which  better  than  any 
others  present  these  ideals  pushed  to  their  ex- 
treme. It  is  characteristic  of  them  that  neither 
professes  to  treat  of  religion,  but  of  politics.  The 
one  is  entitled,  "  An  Attempt  to  define  the  limits 
of  Government"  and  is  by  Wilhelm  von  Hum- 
boldt;  the  other  is  the  better  known  work  of 
Auguste  Comte,  his  "  System  of  Positive 

Polity  ri 

The  first  lays  down  the  principle  that  the 
highest  end  of  man  is  the  utmost  symmetrical 
education  of  his  own  powers  in  their  individual 
peculiarities.  To  accomplish  this,  he  must  enjoy 
the  largest  freedom  of  thought  and  action  con- 
sistent with  the  recognition  of  the  same  right 
in  others.  In  regard  to  religion,  the  state  should 
have  nothing  to  do  with  aiding  it,  but  should 

1  "W.  von  Humboldt,  Ideen  zu  einem  V&rsuch,  die  Grdnzen  der 
Wirksamkeit  des  Staats  zu  bestimmen,  Breslau,  1851.  Auguste 
Comte,  Systime  de  Politique  Positive,  Paris,  1851-4.  The  former 
was  written  many  years  before  its  publication. 


COMTE  AND  HUMBOLDT.  253 

protect  the  individual  in  his  opposition  to  any 
authoritative  form  of  it.  As  a  wholly  personal 
and  subjective  matter,  social  relations  do  not 
concern  it.  In  fine,  the  aim  of  both  government 
and  education  should  be  the  development  of 
an  individualism  in  which  an  enlightened  in- 
tellect controls  and  directs  all  the  powers  toward 
an  exalted  self-cultivation. 

Comte  reverses  this  picture.  His  funda- 
mental principle  is  to  subordinate  the  sum  total 
of  our  existence  to  our  social  relations ;  real 
life  is  to  live  in  others ;  not  the  individual  but 
humanity  is  the  only  worthy  object  of  effort. 
Social  polity  therefore  includes  the  whole  of 
development ;  the  intellect  should  have  no  other 
end  but  to  subserve  the  needs  of  the  race,  and 
always  be  second  to  the  altruistic  sentiments. 
Love  toward  others  should  absorb  self-love. 
"II  est  encore  meilleur  d  aimer  que  d'etre  aime" 

Such  is  the  contrast  between  the  ideal  of  the 
individual  as  exhibited  by  the  Religion  of  Culture, 
and  the  ideal  of  the  commonwealth  as  portrayed 
in  the  Religion  of  Humanity. 

The  whole  duty  of  man,  says  the  one  school, 
is  to  live  for  others  ;  nay,  says  the  other,  it  is  to 
live  intelligently  for  himself  ;  the  intellect,  says 
the  former,  should  always  be  subordinated  to  so- 
ciety, and  be  led  by  the  emotions  ;  intellect,  says 
the  latter,  should  ever  be  in  the  ascendant,  and 
absolutely  control  and  direct  the  emotions  ;  the 


254  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

theoretical  object  of  government,  says  the  former, 
is  to  enable  the  affections  and  thoughts  to  pass 
into  action ;  not  so,  says  the  latter,  its  only  use 
is  to  give  the  individual  secure  leisure  to  devel- 
ope  his  own  affections  and  thoughts.  Mutual 
relation  is  the  key  note  of  the  former,  independ- 
ence of  the  latter  ;  the  former  is  the  apotheosis 
of  love,  the  latter  of  reason. 

Strictly  and  literally  the  apotheosis.  For,  dif- 
fering as  they  do  on  such  vital  points,  they  both 
agree  in  dispensing  with  the  ideas  of  God  and 
immortality  as  conceptions  superfluous  in  the  re- 
alization of  the  theoretical  perfection  they  con- 
template. Not  that  either  scheme  omits  the  re- 
ligious sentiment.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  especi- 
ally prominent  in  one,  and  very  well  marked  in 
the  other.  Both  assume  its  growing  prominence, 
never  its  extinction.  Both  speak  of  it  as  an  in- 
tegral part  of  man's  highest  nature. 

Comte  and  Humboldt  were  thinkers  too  pro- 
found to  be  caught  by  the  facile  fallacy  that  the 
rapid  changes  in  religious  thought  betoken  the 
early  abrogation  of  all  creeds.  Lessing,  the 
philosophers  of  the  French  revolution,  James 
Mill,  Schopenhauer  and  others  fell  into  this  er- 
ror. They  were  not  wiser  than  the  clown  of 
Horace,  who  seated  himself  by  the  rushing 
stream,  thinking  it  must  soon  run  itself  out— 

Expectat  rusticus  duni  defluat  amnis  ;  at  ille 
Labitur  et  labetur  in  omne  volubilis  sevum. 


PERSONAL  SURVIVAL.  255 

Yain  is  the  dream  that  man  will  ever  reach  the 
point  when  he  will  think  no  more  of  the  gods. 
Dogmas  may  disappear,  but  religion  will  flourish  ; 
destroy  the  temple  and  sow  it  with  salt,  in  a  few 
days  it  rises  again  built  for  aye  on  the  solid 
ground  of  man's  nature. 

So  long  as  the  race  is  upon  earth,  just  so  long 
will  the  religious  sentiment  continue  to  crave  its 
appropriate  food,  and  this  at  last  is  recognized 
even  by  those  who  estimate  it  at  the  lowest. 
"To  yield  this  sentiment  reasonable  satisfaction," 
observes  Professor  Tyndall  in  one  of  his  best 
known  addresses,  "  is  the  problem  of  problems  at 
the  present  hour.  It  is  vain  to  oppose  it  with  a 
view  to  its  extirpation."  The  "  general  thaw  of 
theological  creeds,"  which  Spencer  remarks  upon, 
is  no  sign  of  the  loss  of  interest  in  religious  sub- 
jects J  but  the  reverse.  Coldness  and  languor  are 
the  premonitions  of  death,  not  strife  and  defence. 

But  as  the  two  moments  of  religious  thought 
which  I  have  now  discussed  have  both  reached 
their  culmination  in  a  substantial  repudiation  of 
religion,  that  which  stimulates  the  religious  sen- 
timent to-day  must  be  something  different  from 
either.  This  I  take  to  be  the  idea  of  personal 
survival  after  physical  death,  or,  as  it  is  generally 
called,  the  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul. 

This  is  the  main  dogma  in  the  leading  reli- 
gions of  the  world  to-day.  "A  God,"  remarks 


25G  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

Sir  William  Hamilton,  speaking  for  the  enlight- 
ened Christians  of  his  generation,  "  is  to  us  of 
practical  interest,  only  inasmuch  as  he  is  the  con- 
dition of  our  immortality." 1  In  his  attractive 
work,  La  Vie  Eternelle,  whose  large  popularity 
shows  it  to  express  the  prevailing  views  of 
modern  Protestant  thought,  Ernest  Naville 
takes  pains  to  distinguish  that  Christianity  is  not 
a  means  of  living  a  holy  life  so  much  as  one  of 
gaining  a  blessed  hereafter.  The  promises  of  a 
life  after  death  are  numerous  and  distinct  in  the 
New  Testament.  Most  of  the  recommendations 
of  action  and  suffering  in  this  world  are  based  on 
the  doctrine  of  compensation  in  the  world  to 
come. 

Mohammed  taught  the  same  tenet  with  equal 
or  even  greater  emphasis.  In  one  sura  he  says : 
"  To  whatever  is  evil  may  they  be  likened  who 
believe  not  in  a  future  life ;  "  and  elsewhere  : 
"  As  for  the  blessed  ones — their  place  is  Para- 
dise. There  shall  they  dwell  so  long  as  the 
heavens  and  the  earth  endure,  enjoying  the  im- 
perishable bounties  of  God.  But  as  for  those 
who  shall  be  consigned  to  misery,  their  place  is 
the  Fire.  There  shall  they  abide  so  long  as  the 
heavens  and  the  earth  shall  last,  unless  God  wills 
it  otherwise." 

In  Buddhism,  as  generally  understood,  the 

1  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,  Vol.  I.,  p.  23. 

2  The  Koran,  Suras  xi.,  xvi. 


NIRVANA.  257 

doctrine  of  a  future  life  is  just  as  clear.  Not 
only  does  the  soul  wander  from  one  to  another 
animal  body,  but  when  it  has  completed  its 
peregrinations  and  reaches  its  final  abode,  it 
revels  in  all  sorts  of  bliss.  For  the  condition 
of  Nirvana,  understood  by  philosophical  Bud- 
dhists as  that  of  the  extinction  of  desires  even 
to  the  desire  of  life,  and  of  the  complete  enlight- 
enment of  the  mind  even  to  the  recognition  that 
existence  itself  is  an  illusion,  has  no  such  mean- 
ing to  the  millions  who  profess  themselves  the 
followers  of  the  sage  of  Kapilavastu.  They  take 
it  to  be  a  material  Paradise  with  pleasures  as 
real  as  those  painted  by  Mohammed,  wherein 
they  will  dwell  beyond  all  time,  a  reward  for 
their  devotions  and  faith  in  this  life. 

These  three  religions  embrace  three-fourths 
of  the  human  race  and  all  its  civilized  nations,with 
trifling  exceptions.  They  displaced  and  extin- 
guished the  older  creeds  and  in  a  few  centuries 
controlled  the  earth ;  but  as  against  each  other 
their  strife  has  been  of  little  avail.  The  reason 
is,  they  share  the  same  momentum  of  religious 
thought,  differing  in  its  interpretation  not  more 
among  themselves  than  do  orthodox  members  of 
either  faith  in  their  own  fold.  Many  enlightened 
Muslims  and  Christians,  for  example,  consider 
the  descriptions  of  Paradise  given  in  the  Koran 
and  the  Apocalypse  to  convey  wholly  spiritual 

meanings. 

17 


258  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

There  has  been  so  much  to  surprise  in  the 
rapid  extension  of  these  faiths  that  the  votaries 
of  each  claim  manifest  miraculous  interposition. 
The  religious  idea  of  an  after  life  is  a  sufficient 
moment  to  account  for  the  phenomenon.  I  say 
the  religious  idea,  for,  with  one  or  two  exceptions, 
however  distinct  had  been  the  belief  in  a  here- 
after, that  belief  had  not  a  religious  coloring 
until  they  gave  it  such.  Tins  distinction  is  an 
important  one. 

Students  of  religions  have  hitherto  attributed 
too  much  weight  to  the  primitive  notion  of  an 
existence  after  death.  It  is  common  enough, 
but  it  rarely  has  anything  at  all  to  do  with  the 
simpler  manifestations  of  the  religious  sentiment. 
These  are  directed  to  the  immediate  desires  of 
the  individual  or  the  community,  and  do  not  look 
beyond  the  present  life.  The  doctrine  of  com- 
pensation hereafter  is  foreign  to  them.  I  have 
shown  this  at  length  so  far  as  the  religions  of 
America  were  concerned.  "  Neither  the  delights 
of  a  heaven  on  the  one  hand,  nor  the  terrors  of  a 
hell  on  the  other  were  ever  held  out  by  priests 
or  sages  as  an  incentive  to  well  doing,  or  a 
warning  to  the  evil  disposed.  "  1  The  same  is 
true  of  the  classical  religions  of  Greece  and. 
Home,  of  Carthage  and  Assyria.  Even  in  Egypt 
the  manner  of  death  and  the  rites  of  interment 
had  much  more  to  do  with  the  fate  of  the  soul, 

1  The  Myths  of  the  New  World,  Chap.  IX. 


LIFE  HEREAFTER.  259 

than  had  its  thoughts  and  deeds  in  the  flesh. 
The  opinions  of  Socrates  and  Plato  on  the  soul 
as  something  which  always  existed  and  whose 
after  life  is  affected  by  its  experiences  here, 
struck  the  Athenians  as  novel  and  innovating. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  ancient  Germans  had 
a  most  lively  faith  in  the  life  hereafter.  Money 
was  loaned  in  this  world  to  be  repaid  in  the  next. 
But  with  them  also,  as  with  the  Aztecs,  the  future 
was  dependent  on  the  character  or  mode  of  death 
rather  than  the  conduct  of  life.  He  who  died 
the  "straw-death"  on  the  couch  of  sickness 
looked  for  little  joy  in  the  hereafter;  but  he 
who  met  the  "spear-death"  on  the  field  of 
battle  went  at  once  to  Odin,  to  the  hall  of  Val- 
halla, where  the  heroes  of  all  time  assembled  to 
fight,  eat  boar's  fat  and  drink  beer.  Even  this 
rude  belief  gave  them  such  an  ascendancy  over 
the  materialistic,  Romans,  that  these  distinctly 
felt  that  in  the  long  run  they  must  succumb  to 
a  bravery  which  rested  on  such  a  mighty 
moment  as  this.1 

The  Israelites  do  not  seem  to  have  entertained 
any  general  opinion  on  an  existence  after  death. 
No  promise  in  the  Old  Testament  refers  to  a 
future  life.  The  religion  there  taught  nowhere 

1  Jacob  Grimm  quite  overlooked  this  important  element  in 
the  religion  of  the  ancient  Germans.  It  is  ably  set  forth  by 
Adolf  Holtzmann,  Deutsche  Mythologie,  s.  196  sqq.  (Leipzig, 
1871). 


260  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

looks  beyond  the  grave.  It  is  materialistic  to 
the  fullest  extent.  Hence,  a  large  body  of  ortho- 
dox Jewish  philosophers,  the  Saclducees,  denied 
the  existence  of  the  soul  apart  from  the  body. 

The  central  doctrine  of  the  teachings  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  leading  impulse  which 
he  gave  to  the  religious  thought  of  his  age,  was 
that  the  thinking  part  of  man  survives  his  phys- 
ical death,  and  that  its  condition  does  not  depend 
on  the  rites  of  interment,  as  other  religions  then 
taught,1  but  on  the  character  of  its  thoughts 
during  life  here.  Filled  with  this  new  and  sub- 
lime idea,  he  developed  it  in  its  numerous  appli- 
cations, and  drew  from  it  those  startling  infer- 
ences, which,  to  this  day,  stagger  his  followers, 
and  have  been  in  turn,  the  terror  and  derision 
of  his  foes.  This  he  saw,  that  against  a  mind 

i  The  seemingly  heartless  reply  he  made  to  one  of  his  disci- 
ples, -who  asked  permission  to  perform  the  funeral  rites  at  his 
father's  grave  :  "Follow  me  ;  and  let  the  dead  bury  their 
dead,''  is  an  obvious  condemnation  of  one  of  the  most  wide- 
spread superstitions  of  the  ancient  world.  So,  according  to  an 
ingenious  suggestion  of  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  was  the 
fifth  commandment  of  Moses  :  "  Ne  parentum  seriem  tan- 
quam  primam  aliquam  causam  suspicerent  homines,  et  proinde 
cultum  aliquem  Divinum  illis  deferrent,  qualem  ex  honore 
parentum  sperare  liceat  benedictionem,  docuit."  De  Veritate, 
p.  231. 

Herbert  Spencer  in  his  Essay  on  il\e  Origin  of  Animal  Wor- 
ship, calls  ancestral  worship  "the  universal  first  form  of  relig- 
ious belief."  This  is  very  far  from  correct,  but  it  is  easy  to 
see  how  a  hasty  thinker  would  be  led  into  the  error  by  the  prom- 
inence of  the  ancient  funereal  ceremonies. 


BUDDHA'S  TEACHING.  261 

inwardly  penetrated  with  the  full  conviction  of 
a  life  hereafter,  obtainable  under  known  condi- 
tions, the  powers  of  this  world  are  utterly  fu- 
tile, and  its  pleasures  hollow  phantoms. 

The  practical  energy  of  this  doctrine  was 
immensely  strengthened  by  another,  which  is 
found  very  obscurely,  if  at  all,  stated  in  his  own 
words,  but  which  was  made  the  central  point  of 
their  teaching  by  his  immediate  followers.  The 
Christianity  they  preached  was  not  a  philosophi- 
cal scheme  for  improving  the  race,  but  rested  oil 
the  historical  fact  of  a  transaction  between  God 
and  man,  and  while  they  conceded  everlasting 
existence  to  all  men,  all  would  pass  it  in  the  ut- 
most conceivable  misery,  except  those  who  had 
learned  of  these  historical  events,  and  under- 
stood them  as  the  church  prescribed. 

As  the  ancient  world  placed  truth  in  ideas 
and  not  in  facts,  no  teaching  could  well  have 
been  more  radically  contrary  to  its  modes  of 
thought ;  and  the  doctrine  once  accepted,  the 
spirit  of  proselytizing  came  with  it. 

I  have  called  this  idea  a  new  one  to  the  first 
century  of  our  era,  and  so  it  was  in  Europe  and 
Syria.  But  in  India,-  Sakyamuni,  probably  five 
hundred  years  before,  had  laid  down  in  senten- 
tious maxims  the  philosophical  principle  which 
underlies  the  higher  religious  doctrine  of  a 
future  life.  These  are  his  words,  and  if  through 
the  efforts  of  reasoning  we  ever  reach  a  demon- 


262  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

stration  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  we  shall 
do  it  by  pursuing  the  argument  here  indica- 
ted :  "  Eight  thought  is  the  path  to  life  ever- 
lasting. Those  who  think  do  not  die."  1 

Truth  alone  contains  the  elements  of  indefi- 
nite continuity  ;  and  truth  is  found  only  in  the 
idea,  in  correct  thought. 

Error  in  the  intellectual  processes  corres- 
ponds to  pain  in  sensation;  it  is  the  premoni- 
tion of  waning  life,  of  threatened  annihilation  ; 
it  contains  the  seed  of  cessation  of  action  or 
death.  False  reasoning  is  self -destructive.  The 
man  who  believes  himself  invulnerable  will 
scarcely  survive  his  first  combat.  A  man's  true 
ideas  are  the  most  he  can  hope,  and  all  that  he 
should  wish,  to  carry  with  him  to  a  life  hereafter. 
Falsehood,  sin,  is  the  efficient  agent  of  death. 
As  Bishop  Hall  says  :  "  There  is  a  kind  of  not- 
being  in  sin;  for  sin  is  not  an  existence  of 
somewhat  that  is,  but  a  deficiency  of  that  recti- 
tude which  should  be  ;  it  is  a  privation,  as  blind- 
ness is  a  privation  of  sight." 

While  the  religious  doctrine  of  personal  sur- 
vival has  thus  a  position  defensible  on  grounds 
of  reason  as  being  that  of  the  inherent  perma- 
nence of  self-conscious  truth,  it  also  calls  to  its 
aid  and  indefinitely  elevates  the  most  powerful 
of  all  the  emotions,  love.  This,  as  I  have  shown 

1  Dhammapada,  21. 


LOVE  OF  GOD.  263 

in  the  second  chapter,  is  the  sentiment  which  is 
characteristic  of  preservative  acts.  Self-love, 
which  is  prominent  in  the  idea  of  the  perfected 
individual,  sex-love,  which  is  the  spirit  of  the 
multiform  religious  symbolism  of  the  reproduc- 
tive act,  and  the  love  of  race,  which  is  the  chief 
motor  in  the  religion  of  .humanity,  are  purified 
of  their  grosser  demands  and  assigned  each  its 
meet  post  in  the  labor  of  uniting  the  concep- 
tions of  the  true  under  the  relation  of  person- 
ality. 

The  highest  development  of  which  such  love 
is  capable  arises  through  the  contemplation  of 
those  verities  which  are  abstract  and  eternal, 
and  which  thus  set  forth,  to  the  extent  the  in- 
dividual mind  is  capable  of  receiving  it,  the 
completed  notion  of  diuturnity.  This  highest 
love  is  the  "  love  of  God."  A  Supreme  Intelli* 
gence,  one  to  which  all  truth  is  perfect,  must 
forever  dwell  in  such  contemplation.  Therefore 
the  deeper  minds  of  Christianity  define  man's 
love  of  God,  as  God's  love  to  himself.  "  Eter- 
nal life?"  says  Ernest  Naville,  "  is  in  its  princir 
pie  the  union  with  God  and  the  joy  that  results 
from  that  union."  The  pious  William  Law 
wrote  :  "  No  man  can  reach  God  with  his  love, 
or  have  union  with  Him  by  it,  but  he  who  is 
inspired  with  that  one  same  spirit  of  love,  with 

1    La  Vie  Eternelle,  p.  339. 


201  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

which  God  loved  himself  from  all  eternity,  be- 
fore there  was  any  creation."  1 

Attractive  as  the  idea  of  personal  survival  is 
in  itself,  and  potent  as  it  has  been  as  a  moment 
of  religious  thought,  it  must  be  ranked  among 
those  that  are  past.  While  the  immortality  of 
the  soul  retains  its  interest  as  a  speculative  in- 
quiry, I  venture  to  believe  that  as  an  idea  in 
religion's  history,  it  is  nigh  inoperative  ;  that  as 
an  element  in  devotional  life  it  is  of  not  much 
weight ;  and  that  it  will  gradually  become  less 
so,  as  the  real  meaning  of  religion  reaches 
clearer  interpretations. 

Its  decay  has  been  progressive,  and  common 
to  all  the  creeds  which  taught  it  as  a  cardinal 
doctrine,  though  most  marked  in  Christianity. 
A  century  ago  Gibbon  wrote :  "  The  ancient 
Christians  were  animated  by  a  contempt  for 
their  present  existence,  and  by  a  just  confidence 
of  immortality,  of  which  the  doubtful  but  im- 
perfect faith  of  modern  ages  cannot  give  us  any 
adequate  notion."  2  How  true  this  is  can  be 
appreciated  only  by  those  who  study  this  doc- 
trine in  the  lives  and  writings  of  the  martyrs 
and  fathers  of  the  primitive  church. 

The  breach  which  Gibbon  remarked  has  been 
indefinitely  widened  since  his  time.  What  has 

1  The  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  Vol.  I.,  ch.  X-V. 

2  Address  to  the  Clergy,  p.  16. 


IMMORTALITY.  265 

brought  this  about,  and  what  new  moment  in  re- 
ligious thought  seems  about  to  supply  its  place, 
will  form  an  appropriate  close  to  the  present 
series  of  studies.  In  its  examination,  I  shall 
speak  only  of  Christian  thought,  since  it  leads 
the  way  which  other  systems  will  ultimately 
follow. 

In  depicting  the  influences  which  have  led 
and  are  daily  leading  with  augmented  force  to 
the  devitalizing  of  the  doctrine  of  immortality,  I 
may  with  propriety  confine  myself  to  those  which 
are  themselves  strictly  religious.  For  the  change 
I  refer  to  is  not  one  brought  about  by  the  op- 
ponents of  religion,  by  materialistic  doctrines, 
but  is  owing  to  the  development  of  the  ssligious 
sentiment  itself.  Instead  of  tending  to  an  abro- 
gation of  that  sentiment,  it  may  be  expected  to 
ennoble  its  emotional  manifestations  and  elevate 
its  intellectual  conceptions. 

Some  of  these  influences  are  historical,  as  the 
repeated  disappointments  in  the  second  coming  of 
Christ,  and  the  interest  of  proselytizing  churches 
to  interpret  this  event  allegorically.  Those 
which  I  deem  of  more  importance,  however,  are 
such  as  are  efficient  to-day,  and  probably  will 
continue  to  be  the  main  agents  in  the  immediate 
future  of  religious  development.  They  are : 

(1.)  The  recognition  of  the  grounds  of  ethics. 

(2.)  The  recognition  of  the  cosmical  rela- 
tions. 


266  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

(3.)     The  clearer  defining  of  life. 

(4.)  The  growing  immateriality  of  religious 
thought. 

( 1.)  The  authority  of  the  Law  was  assumed 
in  the  course  of  time  by  most  Christian  churches, 
and  the  interests  of  morality  and  religion  were 
claimed  to  be  identical.  The  Koman  church 
with  its  developed  casuistry  is  ready  to  prescribe 
the  proper  course  of  conduct  in  every  emer- 
gency ;  and  if  we  turn  to  many  theological  wri- 
ters of  other  churches,  Dick's  JPhilosojihy  of 
Religion  for  instance,  we  find  moral  conduct 
regarded  as  the  important  aim  of  the  Christian 
life.  Morality  without  religion,  works  without 
faith,  are  pronounced  to  be  of  no  avail  in  a  reli- 
gious, and  of  very  questionable  value  in  a  social 
sense.  Some  go  so  far  as  to  deny  that  a  person 
indifferent  to  the  prevailing  tenets  of  religion 
can  lead  a  pure  and  moral  life.  Do  away  with 
the  belief  in  a  hereafter  of  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, say  these,  and  there  is  nothing  left  to  re- 
strain men  from  the  worst  excesses,  or  at  least 
from  private  sin. 

Now,  however,  the  world  is  growing  to  per- 
ceive that  morality  is  separable  from  religion ; 
that  it  arose  independently,  from  a  gradual  study 
of  the  relations  of  man  to  man,  from  principles 
of  equity  inherent  in  the  laws  of  thought,  and 
from  considerations  of  expediency  which  de- 
prive its  precepts  of  the  character  of  universality. 


MORALS  AND  RELIGION.  267 

Religion  is  subjective,  and  that  in  which  it  exerts 
an  influence  on  morality  is  not  its  contents,  but 
the  reception  of  them  peculiar  to  the  individual. 
Experience  alone  has  taught  man  morals  ;  pain 
and  pleasure  are  the  forms  of  its  admonitions ; 
and  each  generation  sees  more  clearly  that  the 
principles  of  ethics  are  based  on  immutable 
physical  laws.  Moreover,  it  has  been  shown  to 
be  dangerous  to  rest  morality  on  the  doctrine  of 
a  future  life  ;  for  apart  from  the  small  effect  the 
terrors  of  a  hereafter  have  on  many  sinners,  as 
that  doctrine  is  frequently  rejected,  social  inter- 
ests suffer.  And,  finally,  it  is  debasing  and  hurt- 
ful to  religion  to  make  it  a  substitute  for  police 
magistracy. l 

The  highest  religion  would  certainly  enforce 
the  purest  morality  ;  but  it  is  equally  true  that 
such  a  religion  would  enjoin  much  not  approved 
by  the  current  opinions  of  the  day.  The  spirit 
of  the  reform  inaugurated  by  Luther  was  a  pro- 
test against  the  subjection  of  the  religious  senti- 
ment to  a  moral  code.  With  the  independence 
thus  achieved,  it  came  to  be  recognized  that  to 
the  full  extent  that  morality  is  essential  to  reli- 
gion, it  can  be  reached  as  well  or  better  without 
a  system  of  rewards  and  punishments  after  death, 

1  "Toute  religion,  qu'on  se  permet  de  ddfendre  comme  une 
croyance  qu'il  est  utile  de.  laisser  au  peuple,  ne  pent  plus  esp€rer 
qu'une  agonie  plus  ou  moins  prolongde. "  Condorcet,  De  I' Esprit 
7/umam,  Ep.  Y. 


268  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

than  with  one.  Both  religion  and  morality 
stand  higher,  when  a  conception  of  an  after  life 
for  this  purpose  is  dropped. 

( 2 . )  The  recognition  of  the  cosmical  relations 
has  also  modified  the  views  of  personal  survival. 
The  expansion  of  the  notions  of  space  and  time 
by  the  sciences  of  geology  and  astronomy  has, 
as  I  before  remarked,  done  away  with  the  an- 
cient belief  that  the  culminating  catastrophe  of 
the  universe  will  be  the  destruction  of  this 
world.  An  insignificant  satellite  of  a  third  rate 
sun,  which,  with  the  far  grander  suns  whose 
light  we  dimly  discern  at  night,  may  all  be 
swept  away  in  some  flurry  of  "  cosmical 
weather,"  that  the  formation  or  the  dissolution  of 
such  a  body  would  be  an  event  of  any  beyond 
the  most  insignificant  importance,  is  now  known 
to  be  almost  ridiculous.  To  assert  that  at  the  end 
of  a  few  or  a  few  thousand  years,  on  account  of 
events  transpiring  on  the  surface  of  this  planet, 
the  whole  relationship  of  the  universe  will  be 
altered,  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  be 
formed,  and  all  therein  be  made  subservient  to 
the  joys  of  man,  becomes  an  indication  of  an  ar- 
rogance which  deserves  to  be  called  a  symptom 
of  insanity.  Thus,  nrnch  of  the  teleology  both 
of  the  individual  and  the  race  taught  by  the 
primitive  and  medieval  church  undergoes  se- 
rious alterations.  The  literal  meaning  of  the 
millennium,  the  New  Jerusalem,  and  the  reign 
of  God  on  earth  has  been  practically  discarded. 


THE  AIM  OF  THINGS.  269 

With  the  disappearance  of  the  ancient  opin- 
ion that  the  universe  was  created  for  man,  the 
sun  to  light  him  by  day  and  the  stars  by  night, 
disappeared  also  the  later  thesis  that  the  happi- 
ness or  the  education  of  man  was  the  aim  of  the 
Order  in  Things.  The  extent  and  duration  of 
matter,  if  they  indicate  any  purpose  at  all,  sug- 
gest one  incomparably  vaster  than  this ;  while 
the  laws  of  mind,  which  alone  distinctly  point  to 
purpose,  reveal  one  in  which  pain  and  pleasure 
have  no  part  or  lot,  and  one  in  which  man  has 
so  small  a  share  that  it  seems  as  if  it  must  be  in- 
different what  his  fate  may  be.  The  slightest 
change  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  globe  will 
sweep  away  his  species  forever. 

Schopenhauer  classified  all  religions  as  opti- 
misms or  pessimisms.  The  faith  of  the  future 
will  be  neither.  What  is  agreeable  or  disagree- 
able to  man  will  not  be  its  standard  of  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  universe.  However  unwillingly, 
he  is  at  last  brought  to  confess  that  his  com- 
fort is  not  the  chief  nor  even  any  visible  aim  of 
the  order  in  things.  In  the  course  of  that  order 
it  may  be,  nay,  it  is  nigh  certain,  that  the  hu- 
man species  will  pass  through  decadence  to  ex- 
tinction along  with  so  many  other  organisms. 
Neither  as  individuals  nor  as  a  race,  neither  in 
regard  to  this  life  nor  to  the  next,  does  the  idea 
of  God,  when  ennobled  by  a  contemplation  of 
the  cosmical  relations,  permit  to  man  the  effron- 


270  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

tery  of  claiming  that  this  universe  and  all  that 
therein  is  was  made  with  an  eye  to  his   wants 
and  wishes,  whether    to    gratify  or   to    defeat 
.  them. 

(3.)  The  closer  defining  of  life  as  a  result  of 
physical  force,  and  the  recognition  of  mind  as  a 
connotation  of  organism,  promise  to  be  active  in 
elevating  religious  conceptions,  but  at  the  expense 
of  the  current  notions  of  personality.  Sensation 
and  voluntary  motion  are  common  to  the  fetus, 
the  brute  and  the  plant,  as  well  as  to  man. 
They  are  not  part  of  his  "  soul."  Intellect  and 
consciousness,  as  I  have  shown,  exclude  sensation, 
and  in  these,  if  anywhere,  he  must  look  for  his 
immortal  part.  Even  here,  error  works  destruc- 
tion, and  ignorance  plants  no  seed  of  life.  We 
are  driven  back  to  the  teaching  of  Buddha,  that 
true  thought  alone  is  that  which  does  not  die. 

Why  should  we  ask  more  ?  •  What  else  is 
worth  saving  ?  Our  present  personality  is  a 
train  of  ideas  base  and  noble,  true  and  false, 
coherent  through  the  contiguity  of  organs  nour- 
ished from  a  common  center.  Another  per- 
sonality is  possible,  one  of  true  ideas  coherent 
through  conscious  similarity,  independent  of  sen- 
sation, as  dealing  with  topics  not  commensurate 
with  it.  Yet  were  this  refuge  gained,  it  leaves 
not  much  of  the  dogma  that  every  man  has 
an  indestructible  conscious  soul,  which  will  endure 
always,  no  matter  what  his  conduct  or  thoughts 


KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS.  271 

have  been.  Bather  does  it  favor  the  opinion 
expressed  so '  well  by  Matthew  Arnold  in  one 
of  his  sonnets  : 

"  He  who  flagged  not  in  the  earthly  strife 

From  strength  to  strength  advancing— only  he, 
His  soul  well  knit  and  all  his  battles  won, 
Mounts,  and  that  hardly,  to  eternal  life.'* 

Not  only  has  the  received  doctrine  of  a  "  soul," 
as  an  undying  something  different  from  mind  and 
peculiar  to  man,  received  no  support  from  a  closer 
study  of  nature, —  rather  objections  amount- 
ing to  refutation, —  but  it  has  reacted  injuriously 
on  morals,  and  through  them  on  religion  itself. 
Buddha  taught  that  the  same  spark  of  immor- 
tality exists  in  man  and  brute,  and  actuated 
by  this  belief  laid  down  the  merciful  rule  to  his 
disciples :  "  Do  harm  to  no  breathing  thing." 
The  apostle  Paul  on  the  other  hand,  recognizing 
in  the  lower  animals  no  such  claim  on  our  sym- 
pathy, asks  with  scorn:  "  Doth  God  care  for 
oxen  ? "  and  actually  strips  from  a  humane 
provision  of  the  old  Mosaic  code  its  spirit  of 
charity,  in  order  to  make  it  subserve  a  point 
in  his  polemic. 

(4.)  As  the  arrogance  of  the  race  has  thus  met 
a  rebuke,  so  has  the  egotism  of  the  individual. 
His  religion  at  first  was  a  means  of  securing  ma- 
terial benefits  ;  then  a  way  to  a  joyous  existence 
beyond  the  tomb  :  the  love  of  self  all  the  time 
in  the  ascendant. 


272  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

This  egoism  in  the  doctrine  of  personal  sur- 
vival has  been  repeatedly  flung  at  it  by  satirists, 
and  commented  on  by  philosophers.  The  Chris- 
tian who  "  hopes  to  be  saved  by  grossly  believ- 
ing "  has  been  felt  on  all  hands  to  be  as  mean  in 
his  hope,  as  he  is  contemptible  in  his  way  of  at- 
taining it.  To  center  all  our  religious  efforts  to 
the  one  end  of  getting  joy — however  we  may 
define  it — for  our  individual  selves,  has  some- 
thing repulsive  in  it  to  a  deeply  religious  mind. 
Yet  that  such  in  the  real  significance  of  the  doc- 
trine of  personal  survival  is  granted  by  its 
ablest  defenders.  "  The  general  expectation  of 
future  happiness  can  afford  satisfaction  only  as  it 
is  a  present  object  to  the  principle  of  self-love," 
says  Dr.  Butler,  the  eminent  Lord  Bishop  of  Dur- 
ham, than  wliom  no  acuter  analyst  has  written 
jon  the  religious  nature  of  man. 

Yet  nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  the 
spirit  of  true  religion  wages  constant  war  with 
the  predominance  or  even  presence  of  selfish 
aims.  Self-love  is  the  first  and  rudest  form  of 
the  instinct  of  preservation.  It  is  sublimed  and 
sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  holy  passion.  ""Self," 
exclaims  the  fervid  William  Law,  "  is  both  atheist 
and  idolater;  atheist,  because  it  rejects  God; 
idolater,  because  it  is  its  own  idol."  Even  when 
this  lowest  expression  of  the  preservative  in- 
stinct rises  but  to  the  height  of  sex-love,  it  re- 
nounces self,  and  rejoices  in  martyrdom.  "All 


ALL  FOR  LOVE.  273 

for  love,  or  the  world  well  lost,"  has  been  the 
motto  of  too  many  tragedies  to  be  doubted  now. 
By  the  side  of  the  ancient  Koman  or  the  soldier  of 
the  French  revolution,  who  through  mere  love  of 
country  marched  joyously  to  certain  death  from 
which  he  expected  no  waking,  does  not  the 
martyr  compare  unfavorably,  who  meets  the 
same  death,  but  does  so  because  he  believes  that 
thereby  he  secures  endless  and  joyous  life  ?  Is 
his  love  as  real,  as  noble,  as  unselfish  ? 

Even  the  resistless  physical  energy  which 
the  clear  faith  in  the  life  hereafter  has  so  often 
imparted,  becomes  something  uncongenial  to 
the  ripened  religious  meditation.  Such  faith 
brings  about  mighty  effects  in  the  arena  of 
man's  struggles,  but  it  does  so  through  a  sort 
of  mechanical  action.  An  ulterior  purpose  is 
ahead,  to  wit,  the  salvation  of  the  •  soul,  and  it 
may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  best  established 
principles  of  human  effort  that  every  business 
is  better  done,  when  it  is  done  for  its  own  sake, 
out  of  liking  for  it,  than  for  results  expected 
from  it. 

Of  nothing  is  this  more  just  than  religion. 
Those  blossoms  of  spiritual  perfection,  the  puri- 
fied reason,  the  submissive  will,  the  sanctifying 
grace  of  abstract  ideas,  find  no  propitious  airs 
amid  the  violent  toil  for  personal  survival, 
whether  that  is  to  be  among  the  mead  jugs  of 

Valhalla,  the  dark-eyed  houris  of   Paradise,   or 

18 


271  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

the  "  solemn  troops  and  sweet  society  "  of  Chris- 
tian dreams.  Unmindful  of  these,  the  saintly 
psyche  looks  to  nothing  beyond  truth ;  it  asks 
no  definite,  still  less  personal,  end  to  which  this 
truth  is  to  be  applied ;  to  find  it  is  to  love  it, 
and  to  love  it  is  enough. 

The  doctrine  I  here  broach,  is  no  strange 
one  to  Christian  thought.  To  be  sure  the  exhorta- 
tion, "  Save  your  soul  from  Hell,"  was  almost  the 
sole  incentive  to  religion  in  the  middle  ages,  and 
is  still  the  burden  of  most  sermons.  But  St. 
Paul  was  quickened  with  a  holier  fire,  that  con- 
sumed and  swept  away  such  a  personal  motive, 
when  he  wrote:  "Yea,  I  could  wish  that  I 
myself  were  cast  out  from  Christ  as  accursed, 
for  the  sake  of  my  brethren,  my  kinsmen  ac- 
cording to  the  flesh."  St.  Augustine  reveals 
the  touch  of  the  same  inspiration  in  his  passion- 
ate exclamation  :  "  Far,  0  Lord,  far  from  the 
heart  of  thy  servant  be  it  that  I  should  rejoice 
in  any  joy  whatever.  The  blessed  life  is  the  joy 
in  truth  alone."  2  And  amid  the  paeans  to  ever- 
lasting life  which  fill  the  pages  of  theDe  Imita- 
tlone  Christi,  the  medieval  monk  saw  some- 
thing yet  greater,  when  he  puts  in  the  mouth  of 
God  the  Father,  the  warning :  "  The  wise  lover 
thinks  not  of  the  gift,  but  of  the  love  of  the 

1  Romans,  ch.  ix.,  v.  3. 

2  "  Beata  quippe  vita  est  gandium  de  veritate."     Augustini 
Confessionum,  Lib.  x.,  caps,  xxii.,  xxiii. 


WHA T  RECOURSE  f  275 

giver.  Pie  rests  not  in  the  reward,  but  in  Me, 
beyond  all  rewards."  The  mystery  of  great 
godliness  is,  that  he  who  has  it  is  as  one  who 
seeking  nothing  yet  finds  all  things,  who  asking 
naught  for  his  own  sake,  neither  in  the  life  here 
nor  yet  hereafter,  gains  that  alone  which  is  of 
worth  in  either. 

Pressed  by  such  considerations,  the  pious 
Schleiermacher  threw  down  the  glaive  on  the 
side  of  religion  half  a  century  ago  when  he 
wrote  :  "  Life  to  come,  as  popularly  conceived, 
is  the  last  enemy  which  speculative  criticism 
has  to  encounter,  and,  if  possible,  to  overcome." 
The  course  he  marked  out,  however,  was  not 
that  which  promises  success.  Recurring  to  the 
austere  theses  of  Spinoza,  he  sought  to  bring 
them  into  accord  with  a  religion  of  emotion. 
The  result  was  a  refined  Pantheism  with  its  us- 
ual deceptive  solutions. 

What  recourse  is  left?  "Where  are  we  to 
look  for  the  intellectual  moment  of  religion  in 
the  future  ?  Let  us  review  the  situation. 

The  religious  sentiment  has  been  shown  to 
be  the  expression  of  unfulfilled  desire,  but  this 
desire  peculiar  as  dependent  on  unknown  power. 
Material  advantages  do  not  gratify  it,  nor  even 


1  "  Prudens  amator  non  tarn  donum  amantis  considerat,  quam 
dautis  amorem.  Nobilis  amator  non  quiescit  in  dono,  sed  in 
me  super  omne  donum."  De  Imitatione  Christi,  Lib.  iii.,  cap.  vi. 


276  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

spiritual  joy  when  regarded  as  a  personal  senti- 
ment. Preservation  by  and  through  relation 
with  absolute  intelligence  has  appeared  to  be 
the  meaning  of  that  "love  of  God  "  which  alone 
yields  it  satisfaction.  Even  this  is  severed  from 
its  received  doctrinal  sense  by  the  recognition  of 
the  speculative  as  above  the  numerical  unity  of 
that  intelligence,  and  the  limitation  of  personality 
which  spiritual  thought  demands.  The  eternal 
laws  of  mind  guarantee  perpetuity  to  the  extent 
they  are  obeyed — and  no  farther.  They  differ 
from  the  laws  of  force  in  that  they  convey  a 
message  which  cannot  be  doubted  concerning 
the  purport  of  the  order  in  nature,  which  is  itself 
"  the  will  of  God."  That  message  in  its  appli- 
cation is  the  same  which  with  more  or  less  ar- 
ticulate utterance  every  religion  speaks — Seek 
truth  :  do  good.  Faith  in  that  message,  confi- 
dence in  and  willing  submission  to  that  order, 
this  is  all  the  religious  sentiment  needs  to  bring 
forth  its  sweetest  flowers,  its  richest  fruits. 

Such  is  the  ample  and  satisfying  ground 
which  remains  for  the  religion  of  the  future  to 
build  upon.  It  is  a  result  long  foreseen  by  the 
clearer  minds  of  Christendom.  One  who  more 
than  any  other  deserves  to  be  classed  among 
these  writes  :  "  Resignation  to  the  will  of  God 
is  the  whole  of  piety.  *  *  *  Our  resignation 
may  be  said  to  be  perfect  when  we  rest  in  his 
will  as  our  end,  as  being  itself  most  just  and 


THE  CLOSE.  277 

right  and  good.  Neither  is  this  at  bottom 
anything  more  than  faith,  and  honesty  and 
fairness  of  mind  ;  in  a  more  enlarged  sense,  in- 
deed, than  these  words  are  commonly  used."  l 

Goethe,  who  studied  and  reflected  on  religious 
questions  more  than  is  generally  supposed,  saw 
that  in  such  a  disposition  of  mind  lie  the  native 
and  strongest  elements  of  religion.  In  one  of 
his  conversations  with  Chancellor  Mu'ller,  he  ob- 
served :  "  Confidence  and  resignation,  the  sense 
of  subjection  to  a  higher  will  which  rules  the 
course  of  events  but  which  we  do  not  fully  com- 
prehend, are  the  fundamental  principles  of  every 
better  religion." 2 

By  the  side  of  two  such  remarkable  men, 
I  might  place  the  opinion  of  a  third  not  less 
eminent  than  they — Blaise  Pascal.  In  one  part 
of  his  writings  he  sets  forth  the  "  marks  of  a 
true  religion."  Sifted  from  its  physical  ingre- 
dients, the  faith  he  defines  is  one  which  rests 
on  love  and  submission  to  God,  and  a  clear 
recognition  of  the  nature  of  man. 

Here  I  close  these  studies  on  the  Religious 
Sentiment.  They  show  it  to  be  a  late  and 
probably  a  final  development  of  mind.  The 
intellect  first  reaches  entire  self-conciousness, 
the  emotions  first  attain  perfection  of  purpose, 

1  Fifteen  Sermons  by  Joseph  Butler,  Lord  Bishop  of  Durham. 
Sermon  "  On  the  love  of  God." 

2  Unterhaltungen,  p.  131. 


278  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

when  guided  by  its  highest  manifestation.  Man's 
history  seems  largely  to  have  been  a  series  of 
efforts  to  give  it  satisfaction.  This  will  be  pos- 
sible only  when  he  rises  to  a  practical  apprecia- 
tion of  the  identity  of  truth,  love  and  lif e. 


INDICES. 


I.  AUTHORS  QUOTED. 


Allen,  H.,  208. 

Anaxagonvs,  106. 

Arnold,  M.,  249,  271. 

Aristotle,  105. 

Augustine,  St.,  20,  57,  93, 128,  191,  194, 

274. 

Bain,  A.,  9,  25,  52,  59,  87,  91,  244. 
Barlow,  H.C.,  201. 
Baxter,  Ilichard,  60. 
Boehmer,  II.,  7. 

Boole,  Geo.,  24,  44,  104,  105,  108,  111. 
Bunssn,  109,  251. 
Batljr,  Bishop,  60, 119,  276. 
Carlylc,  243. 
Catlovv,  J.  P.,  14,  64. 
Chateaubriand,  250. 
Comte,  A.,  11,  39, 128,  187,  194,  252. 
Condorcet,  267. 
Cory,  J.  P.,  191. 
Coulange,  245. 

Creuzer,  90, 106, 119,  127,  200,  212,  222. 
Cussans,210. 
Dante,  93. 
Darwin,  C.,  71,88. 
Dick,  2G6. 
Dickson,  J,  T.,  73. 
Etheridge,  J.  W.,190. 
Ferguson,  66. 

Terrier,  J.  F.,  20,  28,  43,  97. 
Feuchtersleben,  8,  54,  73. 
Feuerbach,  194. 
Fothergill,  J.  M.,  61. 
Gibbon,  264. 


Goethe,  277. 

Gurney,  J.  J.,  119. 

Hall,  Bishop,  50,  77. 

Hamilton,  Sir  W.,  24,29,  91,  95,  99,256. 

Helmholtz,  11, 14,  18, 22. 

Hegel,  29,  88. 

Herbert  of  Cherbury,  149,  260. 

Hobbes,  81. 

Hodgson,  S.  N.,  101,  126,  128,  134. 

Iloltzmann,  A.,  259. 

Humboldt,  A.  von,  92. 

Humboldt,  W-  von,  6,  53,  67,  93,  112, 

113,  214,  246,  252. 
Hume,  David,  81,  187,  219. 
Hunter,  John,  9. 
Jacobi,  88. 

Jevons,  W.  S.,  25,  204. 
Kant,  I.,  25,  29,  32,  40,  91,  105,  194. 
Kolk,  Schroeder  van  der,  72. 
Kitto,  74. 
Koppen,  37,  214. 
Law,  Wm.,  49,  87,  263,  272. 
Laycock,  75,  245. 
Lessing,  53,  251. 
Lewes,  187. 

Liddon,  II.  L.,  12D,  250. 
Mansel,  87,  88. 
Maudsley,  H.,  9,150. 
Mill,  J.  S-,  18,  87,  91,  97,  223. 
Mohammed,  71,  75, 114,  256. 
Morell,  J.  D.,  88. 
Morley,  J.,  223. 
Miiller,  130. 


280 


INDICES. 


Miiller,  Max,  preface. 

Nuville,  E.,  256,  203. 

Neandcr,  A.,  241. 

Novalis,  41,  49,  107,  124,  243. 

Oersted,  103. 

Okeii,  L.,  7,  186. 

Paget,  J.,  G3. 

Parker,  Theo.,  88. 

Pascal,  56. 

Plath,  129. 

Rousseau,  J.  J.,  118. 

Saussure,  Necker  de,  229. 

Schlagintweit,  E.,  187. 

SchMermacher,  88,  275. 

Schoolcraf  t,  6  ;,  14G. 

Schopenhauer,  A.,  11,   13,  51,  82,  91, 

209. 
Schwarz,  207. 


Senancourt  de,  53,  180. 

Spinoza,  9,  14,  17,  41,  42,  51,  98,  104. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  29,  39,  98, 104,  236, 

260. 

Swedenborg,  75. 
Steinthal,  101,  246. 
Tertullian,  241. 
Theophilus,  191. 
Thompson,  31. 
Todhunter,  25. 
Tyjidall,  67, 132,  255. 
Voltaire,  249. 
Westropp,  62. 
Wigan,  A.  L.,  76. 
Williams,  J.,  76. 
Wordsworth,  41,  42, 180. 
Wiudelbaiid,  Dr.,  101, 102, 108. 


II.  SUBJECTS. 


Absolute,  the,  102, 10G. 

consciousness  of,  161. 

Adam,  as  prophet  of  the  moon,  170. 

Adjita,  178. 

Adonis,  1C5. 

Aeon,  163,  166. 

Agdistis,  an  epicene  deity,  65. 

Ahura-Mazda,  113,  16C,  184. 

Allah,  23D. 

Amitabha,  175,  185. 

Analytic  propositions,  32. 

Androgynous  deities,  66. 

Animism,  103. 

Anointed,  the,  176. 

Anya-Mainyus,  1G6, 184. 

Anthropomorphism,  193. 

Antinomies  of  Kant,  29. 

Aphrodite,  65,  211. 

Apocalypse,  the,  171- 

Apollo,  67,  241. 

Apperception,  156. 

Apprehension,  142. 

Arab  idea  of  time,  165. 

Argumentum  de  appetitu,  231. 

Aronhiate,  a  Huron  deity,  221. 

Arrenothele  deities,  66. 

Art,  religious,  in  Orient,  15  ;  in 
Greece,  10  ;  Christian,  209,  241 ;  use- 
less and  immoral,  2U. 

Assyria,  flood  myth  of,  169. 

Athanasius,  his  doctrine  of  the  Trin- 
ity, 191. 


Atonement,  doctrine  of,  222. 

Avalokitesvara,  214, 

Aztecs,  80. 

Baghavad  Gita,  the,  189. 

Babylon,  rites  of,  74. 

Baldur,  170. 

Baptism,  138,226. 

Beauty,  the  line  of,  15,  211. 

the  religion  of,  'Ml,  244,  245. 

Belief,  its  kinds,  111. 

Brahma,  65, 169. 

Brahmans,  highest  bliss  of,  57 ;  doc- 
trines, 168,  109. 

Breidablick,  176. 

Brutes,  religious  feeling  in,  88. 

Buddha,  37,  57,  80,  120,  140,  150,  261, 
271. 

Buddhism,  four  truths  of,  13;  theories 
of  prayer,  121,  150,  214  ;   last  day, 
169 ;  myths,  175,  176  ;   monotheism 
of,  187,  247,  256. 
Bull,  as  a  symbol,  204. 

Cabala,  Jehova  in,  65. 

Canting  arms,  212. 

Cause,  not  a  reason,  38 ;  in  physical 
science,  91. 

Celibacy,  Romish,  61. 

Cerebration,  unconscious,  149. 

'hance,  the  idea  of,  9,°-. 

liinese  character  for  prayer,  129. 
Christ,  sec  Jesus. 


INDICES. 


281 


Christianity,  doctrines   of,  190,  257, 
264,  274  ;  symbol  of,  203. 

Christmas  tree,  the,  215. 

Cockatrice,  the,  77. 

Commonwealth,  ideal  of,  247. 

Consciousness,  forms  of,  17,  20. 

Confucius,  doctrine,  122,  sq. 

Continuity,  law  of,  11,  16  ;    principle 
of,  95. 

Contradiction,  law  of,  27,  102. 

Correspondences,  doctrine  of,  217. 

Cosmical  relations  of  man,  112,  268. 

Cotytto,  G5. 

Cow,  as  a  symbol,  204. 

Craoshang,  176. 

Creation,  myth  of,  166. 

Crescent,  a  phallic  symbol,  62. 

Cross,  a  phallic  symbol,  62  ;  as  phon- 
etic symbol,  210  ;  variants  of,  210. 

Cult,  the,  199  sq. 

Culture,  religion  of,  243,  244,  253. 

Cybele,  C5  ;  priests  of,  66,  219. 

Dactyli,  the,  184. 

Darkness,  terror  of,  185. 

Day  of  Judgment,  the,  172. 

Deity,  see  God. 

Design,  argument  from,  110. 

Desire,  meaning  of,  53- 

Deus,  185 ;  triformis,  191. 

Deva,  185. 

Didactic  rites,  225. 

Divination  and  prayer,  137. 

Dramatic  rites,  226. 

Dual  law  of  thought,  27, 102  ;  division 

of  the  gods,  182,  183. 
Edda,  mythology  of,  175,  215. 
Eden,  garden  of,  175. 
Ego,  the,  19. 
Egoism  of  religion,  272. 
Egyptians,  doctrines  of,  80,  222  ;  pray- 
ers, 115  ;   pyramids,  212  ;   lotus  of, 
214. 

Emotions,   origin     of,   10;    exclude 
thought,  19;  in  religion,  49;  of  fear 
and  hope,  50,  51  ;  esthetic,  14. 
Entheasm,  148. 
Epochs  of  nature,  164  sq. 
Epicene  deities,  66. 
Epilepsy  and  religious  delusions,  75. 
Eros,  72. 

Fsculapius,  emblem  of,  200. 
Esthetic  emotions,  14, 244. 


Ethics,  grounds  of,  266. 

Excluded  middle,  law  of,  27,  sqq. 

Expectant  attention,  74, 129. 

Explanation,  limits  of,  38. 

Faith  in  religion,  107. 

Fascination,  74. 

Fear,  in  religion,  50,  sqq. 

Female  principle  in  religion,  62, 183. 

Feridun,  garden  of,  175. 

Flood,  myth  of,  169,  sq. 

Fingers,  as  gods,  184. 

Force,  orders  of,  133. 

Freedom,  105. 

Friends,  sect  of,  see  Quakers. 
Future  life,  doctrine  of,  256,  sq. 

Gallican  confession,  the,  138. 
Generative  function  in  religion,  62, 

72,  73. 

Genius  as  inspiration,  149. 
Gnosis,  the  genuine,  74. 
Gnostic  doctrines,  166. 
God,  as  father,  70;  spouses  of,  69,  71; 
mother  of,  68  ;  sexless,  71  ;  earliest 
notions  of,  78 ;    incomprehensible, 
98  ;  throne  of,  167 ;  love  of,  73,  £63, 
276. 
Gods,  hierarchy  of,  181;  quantification 

of  the,  186  ;  of  lightning,  207- 
Good,  final  victory  of,  179. 
Grasshoppers,  prayers  against,  131. 
Greeks,  art  of,  16 ;  doctrines  of,  80 ; 

sophists,  96. 
Gudmund,  King,  175. 
Hades,  186. 
Hare,  the  Great,  212. 
Hell,  186,  258.  274. 
Hercules,  72. 

Hermaphrodite  deities,  66. 
Hesperides,  the,  175. 
Hierarchy  of  the  gods,  181. 
High  places,  worship  of,  215,  216. 
Historic  ideas.  232. 
Holy  spirit,  as  inspiring,  138  ;  brood- 
ing, 167. 

FTope,  in  religion,  51  sqq. 
Horse,  the,  165. 

Humanity,  the  religion  of,  194,  253. 
Ignorance,  in  relation  to  religion,  82. 
Illumination,  140. 
[m mortality,  doctrine  of,  255. 
Indians,  American,  125, 157. 
Insanity,  religious,  76. 


282 


INDICES. 


Inspiration,  137. 

Intelligence,  one  in  kind,  96 ;  as  the 

lirst  cause,  10G,  111. 

Irmin,  pillars  of,  215. 

Ischomachus,  prayer  of,  120. 

Israelites,  the  Messiah  of,  176. 

Janus,  an  epicene  deity,  Co. 

Jehovah,  65,  156. 

Jemschid,  king,  175. 

Jesus,  face  of,  67,  241  ;  conception  of, 

71;  wounds  of,  130  ;  wisdom  of,  14-1; 

as  second  Noah,  170  ;  teachings,  178, 

260  ;  prayer  to,  187  ;  execution  of, 

203  ;  death  of,  2L'2. 

Judaism,  187. 

Judgment,  day  of,  172. 

Kalpa,  of  Brahmans,  1C8. 

Knowledge,  forms  of,  21. 

Kosmos,  the,  72,  144,  167. 

Lateau,  Louise,  130. 

Law,  defined,  40;  of  excluded  middle, 

27  ;  oldest,  Mfc 
Laws,  the,  of  thought,  26,  sq.;  101,  sq. ; 
not  restrictive,  105;  as  purposive, 
108. 

Light,  as  ohject  of  worship,  185. 
Liglitnin.tr,  tin-,  in  symbolic  art,  207. 
Life,  the  perfect,  57. 
Lingam,  the,  r.r.. 
Liugayets,  sect  of,  CO. 
Logie,  applied,!'.",;  abstract  or  formal, 
24  ;  mathematical,  24  ;  laws  of,  101, 
sq. 

Logos,  the,  42, 106. 
Lotus,  as  symbol.  •_>13,  sq. 
Love,  as  religious  emotion,  denned, 
58,  60,  262  ;  of  sex,  61,  63  ;    law  of, 
73;  of  God,  73,  263,  276. 
Ma,  a  goddess,  183. 
Maitreya,  17»5. 

Mamona,  a  Haitian  deity,  68. 
M;irchen,  the,  defined,  157. 
Marriage  condemned,  69. 
Maypole,  as  a  symbol,  215. 
Melitta,  65. 

Memory,  physical  basis  of,  10;  ances- 
tral, 75. 

Memorial,  rites,  225. 
Messiah,  the,  17(>. 
Millennium,  the.  173,  268. 
Miehabo,  an  Algonkin  deity,  185. 
Mind,  growth  of,  7  ;  extent  of,  8,  271; 
as  seat  of  law,  163. 


Miracles,  110,  130. 
Mithras,  65. 

Mohammed,  notion  of  god,  71  ;   in- 
spired, 146. 

Mohammedanism,  187,  224. 
Monotheism,  origin  of,  83,  81;  186,  sq. 
Moral  government  of  the  world,  112. 
Morality,    independent    of    religion, 

dualism  of  deities,  182,  249,  266,  267. 
Mormonism,  61. 
Motion,  first  law  of,  11  ;  relation  to 

time  and  space,  35  ;  manifestations 

of,  7T. 

Myth,  the,  defined,  156. 
Names,  sacred,  156. 
Natural  selection,  in  sensation,  10  ; 

in  logic,  101. 
Nature,  meaning  of ,  4,  39,  105;  epochs 

of,  164. 

No.nqueteba,  240. 
Neo-Hegelian  doctrine,  194. 
Nirvana,  the,  13,57,257. 
Noah,  170. 
Nous,  the,  106. 
Cannes,  170. 
O'u'lisk  as  symbol,  215. 
Odainsakr,  175. 
Olin.  ."•:;.  _•.->'.). 
Optimism.  112,269. 
Order,  in  things,  90,  sq. 
Osiris,  ir,.~,. 
Tain,  defined,  17. 
Parsees,  doctrine  of,  80,  166,  184. 
I'm, theism.  188,  194,217. 
Papas,  a  Phrygian  god,  183. 
Paradise,  lo.st  and  regained,   myths 

of,  173,  sq  ;  future,  257. 
Peiitaluha,  the,  212. 
Perfected  commonwealth,  ideaof,247. 
Perfected  individual,  idea  of,  239. 
Personal  survival,  idea  of,  255. 
Pessimism,  11,  112,  2r.9. 
Persians,  ancient,  17ii. 
Personality,  the,  19,  270. 
Phallus,  worship  of,  62,  66,  214,  216. 
Phanes,  the  orphic  principle,  190. 
Philosophy  of  religion,  defined,  3  ;  of 

mythology.  15!);  of  history,  232. 
Phrygian  divinities,  183. 
Pillar  worship,  215. 
Pleasure,  defined,  14. 
Polarizatiou,as  a  principle  of  thought) 
183. 


INDICES. 


283 


Porte  Royale,  miracles  of,  131. 

Postulates  of  religion,  89. 

Prayer,  117,  sq. 

Progression  of  development,  109. 

Protestantism,  128, 139,  250. 

Protogonus,  1G7. 

Psyche,  and  love,  72. 

Pythagoras,  his  thoughts  on  number 
189. 

Quakers,  sect  of ,  76,  115, 138,  147. 

Quantification  of  the  predicate,  22 ;  o: 
the  gods,  18G. 

Quetzalcoatl,  212. 

reason  in  religion,  106,  107  ;  drawi 
from  sight,  186. 

Rebus  in  symbolism,  212. 

Rcgin,  as  name  of  gods,  00. 

Relative,  the,  106. 
Religion,  science    of,  3  ;  philosophy 
of,  3 ;  personal  factor  of,  81 ;  not 
concerned  with  phenomena,  110. 
Ee;iroductive    function   in    religion 

GL\ 

Res  per  accidens,  182. 
Resignation,  doctrine  of,  128,  135. 
Revelation,  marks  of,  149. 
Rig  Veda,  the,  125. 
Rite,  the,  217,  seq. 
Roland,  pillars  of,  215. 
Roman  Catholics,  76,  138,  141, 187,  250. 
Sabians,  myths  of,  170. 
Sacraments,  227. 

Sacrifice,  idea  in,  218  ;  vicarious,  222. 
Saga,  the,  defined,  157. 
Saint  Brigida,  14(!. 
Saint  Gertrude  of  Xivelles,  146. 
Sakyamuni,  see  Buddha. 
Saturnian  Era,  the,  175. 
Science  of  Religion,  3  ;  as  knowledge 

of  system,  92  ;  of  mythology,  158. 
Secularization  of  symbols,  204. 

ion,      defined,     9;      excludes 
thought,  19  ;  of  pain  and  pleasure, 
10. 
Sentiment,  the  religious,  3;  emotional 

elements  of,  79;  rational  postulates 

of,  87  ;  religion  of,  25D. 
Serpent,  as  emblem  and  symbol,  200, 

20G,  207. 

Sev,  an  Egyptian  deity,  165. 
Sex,  love  of,  61,  63 ;  in  nature,  71,  72, 

216. 
Shekinah,  the,  66. 


Siddartha,  a  name  of  Buddha,  121. 

Similars,  law  of,  204. 

Sin,  sense  of,  225. 

Sight,  as  the  light-sense,  186. 

Siva,  worship  of,  GG,  214. 

Soul,  the,  19,  271. 

Specific  performance  in  rites,  218,  sq. 

Stijmata,  the,  130. 

Sufficient  reason,  principle  of,  91. 

Sukhavati,  175. 

Supernatural,  defined,  4  ;  its  relation 

to  symbols,  205. 
Swedenborg,  75,  217. 
Symbol,  the  phonetic,  200  ;  origin  of, 

202  ;  related  and  coincident,  203. 
Symbolism,  defined,  200. 
Synthesis  of  contraries,  37. 
Synthetic  propositions,  32. 
Ta'.hagata,  a  name  of  Buddha,  121. 
Tau,  the  Egyptian,  210. 
Theology,  4. 

Thor,  hammer  of,  210,  239. 
Thought,  as  a  function,  17;  laws  of, 

26,  101,  sq.;  as  purposive,  108. 
Tien,  Mongolian  deity,  185,  216. 
Time,  not  a  force,  11 ;  but  believed  to 

be  one,  165. 
Tlapall.-m,  175. 
Tree  worship,  215. 

Triads,  the  Celtic,  190  ;  Platonic,  191. 
Triangle,  the  equilateral,  212. 
Trinity,  the  doctrine  of,  191 ;  symbol 

of,  212. 

Triplicate  relation  of  numbers,  190. 
Pritheisin.  of  Christianity,  190. 
Truth,   what  is,  21 ;  eternal,  41  ;   as 

answer  to  prayer,  137. 
Tulan,  175. 

Unconditioned,  the,  29,  31,  37,  98, 100. 
Jniformity  of  sequence,  as  cause,  91, 

92. 

Unknowable,  the,  29,  34,  99,  100. 
'alkyria,  the,  53. 
'alhalla,  253. 

"aruna,  an  Aryan  god,  125. 
'endidad,  the,  175. 
'enereal  sense,  the,  64. 
icarious  sacrifice,  theory  of,  222. 
irginity,  sacredness  of,  69. 
irgin  Mother,  the,  68. 
olition,  see  Will, 
oluspa,  the, 171. 
Vabose,  Catherine,  146. 


INDICES. 


"\Vater,  as  the  primitive  substance, 

1C7. 
Will,   the,  1C  ;  of  God,   38,   42  ;  as    a 

cause,  00. 
Wish,  the  religious,  52  ;  definition  of, 

79. 
World,  moral  government  of,    112 ; 

creation  and  changes,  164 ;  light  of 

the,  185. 


Xisuthru^,  170. 
Year,  the  Great,  1G9. 
Yi:na,  reign  of,  175. 
Ynglyngasaga,  the,  218. 
Yocauna,  a  Haitian  deity,  68. 
Zarathustra,  80,  114. 
Zeruana  akerana,  166. 
Zweckgesetze,  108. 


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